Dance, Little Darling
by Euphoric Lolita
Summary: Erik/OC. Erik has had about all he can take mourning his loss of Christine, when Fate one day deals him what appears to be a sweet card. Maybe this reincarnate angel can put his heart, and music, to rest. Maybe this is finally his happy ending...
1. Welcome to the Opera Populaire

**Sooo...this is Euphoric Lolita (better known once as Kayla Elric). This shall be my first fanfiction that I plan to finish in over a year. Please bear with me.  
Many of my new stories will deal with plots taken from several different roleplays I have done as a GaiaOnline nerd, this one being no different. I hope you enjoy~!**

Chapter One: Welcome to the Opera Populaire

_Poor Erik..._

The Opera Populaire. Besides the Eiffel Tower, it could easily be considered Paris's most famous landmark. It was a building where the highest of Parisian society could engage in splendid gala events, but most noted, sit upon its theater's red velvet seats and view one of the world's greatest musical productions: opera. The voices, as if they had been stolen from seraphs and placed in the throats of lovely girls and thick-chested men, could be heard almost throughout the city. For those unable to afford admission, and willing to park their carriages outside the opera house, they would have enough entertainment for the ears to appease the rest of their senses.

However, the glamorous facade of the Opera Populaire disguised a dark history. For many a year, the cast and crew of the theater had been plagued and haunted day by day, by a man first believed to be a specter. Some reports said that he was a skeleton adorned in dress-clothes and a cape. Others said that this ghost was a tall man of thin figure, with piercing blue eyes and the left side of his face having a pale glow to it from a formed leather mask. Yes, there were many a rumor and story that circulated throughout the opera, as well as its surrounding city. No, they were not lies. The ghost was real. His formal title: the Phantom of the Opera.

Eighteen months ago, the Phantom, known as Erik only to a select few in our plot, took up a strong interest in a pupil he had been tutoring vocally since childhood. This girl, Christine Daae, could only behold him through her imagination or dreams, with only his haunted, soothing voice to be in her presence. Following her first lead roll in the performance of _Hannibal_ by Chalameau, Erik dared to lure young Christine into his world, and attempt to make her love him. As was expected, his attempts were all for naught, for Christine had fallen in love with the opera's patron, the Vicomte de Chagny, Raoul, and fallen into fear for her own life at the hands of her "Angel of Music." Within several more months, Erik would lose Christine, this time, permanently, and he disappeared from his lair, leaving his white leather mask behind, resting upon his throne.

This man, this architect and musical genius, this artist and assassin, had vanished. While the smoldering opera house above was being emptied and saved, a search party had gone down to slaughter Erik, led by little Meg Giry, the chorus girls' instructor's daughter. She had found the mask, and taking it back up with her through the narrow passages of the sewers, would later leave it to rest in the dressing room where Erik had first appeared to Christine. Of course, the Opera Populaire would be fully repaired just in time for rehearsal for another opera within a month or so. The infamous Madame Giry had seen to that.

Within a few days of the opera's reopening, the mask would vanish. Perhaps the Opera Ghost, a man whom all assumed to be dead, had returned once more.

But, enough with accounting for past occurrences. We must begin our story at the base of the Opera's great marble staircase, where a frustrated Madame Giry would be found, leading someone into the theater.

* * *

"Come, child; we shall be late," the Madame Giry snapped at her young acquaintance, leading her roughly by the hand into the Opera House.

"Sorry, _madame_," the young one replied, her voice faint as if she were lost in a dream traveling through the Opera, though rather quickly. The acquaintance was a girl by the name of Aleera Lorenti. She had been orphaned at seventeen years, and for causes that were not of her own control, she would be trained here, as a chorus girl.

Aleera was a rather frail young thing, a short girl of fair skin with large, curious brown eyes. A red lily hair clip that she had worn almost each day was positioned neatly to one side of her chestnut-brown hair. Pushing her feathered bangs back, that completely covered her forehead, her eyes were finally free to indulge in the sights about her. A gasp escaped her throat as she and Giry entered the main theater. To her, it was the most beautiful sight her eyes had ever beheld: golden models of lovers that reached out to each other adorned the frame of the stage and the viewer's boxes. The seats were of polished brass and red velvet. But of course, the real sight to see dangled from the ceiling just above her head.

It was the chandelier, but not the chandelier of Populaire legend. Not the same one that several unsuspecting opera fans were unable to escape being crushed by. That piece of art had been placed far backstage, where an off-white tarp hung over it, just beginning to collect dust. The newer version seemed to be of a more impressive size - if at all possible - and Aleera's eyes seemed to sparkle from amazement as her brain recognized what exactly it was.

Within a few moments more, Aleera had been led around corner after corner, through hallway after hallway, until she came to a room where both she and Giry could hear a commotion going on from within. Giry pushed the door open, revealing all the chorus girls, giggling or braiding each other's hair. The second they saw their instructor come through the door, they instantly went silent and looked toward her with the utmost attention.

"This is Aleera Lorenti, girls," Giry announced to them, trying to put on a friendly disposition so the young brunette didn't take her as intimidating, yet, "and she will be staying with us from now on to be trained, as you all have, to be a chorus girl. She has only lived in Paris for two years, as she was born in Italy, so please do your best to show her how our routines are dealt with, and what is to be expected of her." She gave Aleera a light nudge toward the rest of the girls, and then turned toward the door to leave. "Oh, and please help her feel welcome as well." That had to be added, before Giry made her final exit.

Most of the other girls didn't find it that odd that a new girl was coming here, and all of them were exceedingly curious as to why she was an orphan, what she was pursuing with her life, and the like. Obviously, they all had heard quite a bit of background information on her before she had come. She didn't mind though, and was able to give them tidbits about her life here and there.

_...I was born in Capri, Italy. My father, Salvatore, was a successful lawyer. My mother, Gianna, was a prominent woman in the world of modern European fashion design for young woman. We moved to Paris just two years ago for my mother to expand her business and open up a shop. I had always loved the opera, but it seemed that both of my parents were too busy to take me. When my nanny finally decided to take me, it was on the night of _Il Muto's _premiere. Not only did I get to see a stagehand's body hanging by a noose above the stage, but in my panic to rush home, I discovered my parents. In a filthy Parisian alleyway. Deceased._

_Apparently, a small troupe of gypsies had run into them on their way home from a rather important dinner with a friendly client of my mother's. Demanding money, they both refused and were cornered. My father tried to become a hero that night, but it seemed that four to five gypsies were too much for them. They both were cut open like stuck pigs. I could never imagine seeing another horror as gruesome._

_I remained alone for a good year, placed in an orphanage. I refused to stay, and kept running back to my home, only to see more and more of my family's possessions had been greedily claimed by my family. As a "favor" to me, they let my parents be buried in Paris. I don't know what I would do if they were sent back to Italy. I, however, was not about to leave so easily._

_It was on one particular night, running home to the townhouse in the city, that I had climbed to the top floor and walked out onto the small balcony. I turned my attention toward the Opera House, a strange, orange glow catching in the corner of my eye. It was on fire. Dear God, how it seemed to melt before my very eyes. I was convinced that I had never seen such a tragic, beautiful display before…_

_As for my story to why I am here now, well, that can be revealed at a later date. I have my own reasons, and others that have bound me here._

Aleera tried to distance herself slightly from the girls, but it seemed as if the younger ones' curiosity for her life in Italy was insatiable. This girl was focusing on other things. Here she was, in the greatest establishment dedicated to entertainment the world had ever known, and she was to be a part of it. Not to mention, there were quite a few secrets to this building that she died to uncover, one in particular placed on a pedestal above all the rest.

_Phantom... are you dead?_


	2. A New Pupil

Chapter Two: A New Pupil

_Keep your hand at the level of your eyes..._

Now, previously, it had been brought to the attention of our reader that the possibility of a once forgotten man still lingered within the Opera Populaire. His leather mask of ghostly ivory had been retrieved from Christine Daae's dressing room, and the whole of the opera staff believed it to be Erik himself, coming to retrieve that melancholy accessory. Well, they had, in fact, been absolutely correct in their assumptions. The so-called demon of our tale, Erik, now busied himself with the rigging above the stage, walking along the scaffolding. That was where he still found purpose and a connection with the theater.

He wanted everything to be absolutely perfect for tonight's opera. The ballerinas practiced below his feet. Well, to say practicing would be a gross overstatement. They seemed more interested in gossipping about the newest member of their company than perfecting their fouettes. Erik actually found himself pitying the poor girl. What was her name... Elina? Amira? He could've sworn he had heard her name mentioned by one of the stagehands as he snuck through the orchestral pit, examining each instrument so it would perform perfectly for their next use.

The answer came to him in the form of a screech from Madame Giry.

"Aleera, you are a ballet dancer, NOT a two ton elephant," the impatient women snapped. "Keep your hips turned out, your feet ponted, and for pity's sake, try to land lightly!" Madam Giry gave a grumble of hopelessness and disgust in Aleera's direction and then stalked off to help the other more talented dancers.

Erik fumed at Madam Giry. It was obvious the girl had had little to no training. It was a miracle she could stand up in pointe shoes let alone manuever gracefully. He scrawled a note in red ink and slipped it into an envelope, dropping it where Giry could see it. Fortunately, she saw it and quickly snatched it from the air before the girls could see the envelope, and its trademark garnet-red wax skull stamped across the folds.

No doubt it was from her ghostly friend that had used her as a means of communication to the opera staff. She tore open the envelope, which was more of a tug than a tear, since it had been freshly sealed, and began to read it. As her vision danced over the rushed script of the letter, her expression changed from one of annoyance, to that of a more accepting nature. As always, she was able to find him among the rafters and gave one curt nod in his direction.

Erik then returned his attention back to Aleera, and his steely cobalt eyes widened, and he could hear his heartbeat quicken. She was the _exact_ image of Christine. The soft chestnut hair... the eyes that held her childlike fascination... the physique... everything was akin to his angel. Or rather, the one who had once been his angel. He scrambled quickly down the ropes, his head spinning, feeling as though he might vomit. He raced back to the cellars and sat upon the organ bench, before breaking out in a cold sweat.

"Oh, Fate," he whispered, his husky breath shaky in fear, "what kind of cruel joke have you to play on me now?" He shuddered and began to play the faded white keys of his organ, unwilling to accept how terrified he was to find out. As soon as he played the sickening feeling in his gut out enough, he would return and supervise Aleera once more...

* * *

Oh, how Erik's expression maintained its hopelessness when he returned to his usual position above the stage. Aleera had not seemed to improve at all, but he didn't obtain this information from mere observation. The girls were being given one of their few short breaks from dancing, and the aggravated look on Madame Giry's tight face was an easy giveaway. He sighed, and pushed a hand back through his jet black hair, hoping she would follow his instructions.

For poor Aleera, it was a terrible thing to have to gawk at what she could be, what she had to be. Each girl had seemed to have practiced for years, though it was only maybe one or two of merciless training and endurance of the Madame. Aleera was more of a talent of voice then of movement, as it was obvious she lacked any natural grace with her limbs, and she had never had to handle such a horrid, strict teacher. Sighing, she sat hopelessly on one of the closed wooden prop boxes backstage, her face in her hands, trying to keep her emotions inside.

Giry had heard Erik once again climb back up into the scaffolding, and called Aleera over to her, who perked her head up instantly and made her way through the small groups of gossiping chorus girls. Giry pulled the letter from her pocket and began to speak to her, Erik seeing this and smiling faintly.

"I can see that dancing is not your forte, and I am willing to help you," she said, trying her hardest to act calm. "However, I would like to hear you sing. If you have promise, I think I know someone who can help you even more so." She glanced up at the rigging. Erik was fuming. He did not want to teach some half-baked little chorus girl whom Giry thought was a prodigy. He scrambled down the ropes, intent to have a word with Giry. Then he stopped, seeing Aleera opened her mouth, and she began to sing an aria, pouring what seemed to be her very soul into the song.

Aleera understood that Giry knew she had no talent as a dancer, but still wanted to sing, and prove to her that she did have promise as a performer. As she sang, Giry's promise of another aiding her seemed to spark some curiosity in her, but for now, she would have to concentrate on her song. Mysteries would have to come second.

Erik watched little Aleera curiously... even more he _listened_. There was a strange, luxurious, multi-leveled quality that he had not heard for a while. She needed coaxing no doubt, but the raw talent that made a diva was most definitely there. He closed his eyes and keyed in his talented ears to determine her voice breaks, her range, her timber. She was good, very good. Erik once again scrawled a note and threw it down. This time it landed at the feet of little Aleera. It read:

_Go to your dressing room at nine o'clock tonight. See that no one follows you. This is your first lesson. Make sure not to be late. _

_~ Erik._

Aleera was heard by all in the theater, and all were both shocked and impressed. How could this young girl who was so poorly skilled in dance be superior in vocals? It didn't seem to make sense to the other performers who listened in, but they listened with awe, and applauded her as she released the final note of the aria. She looked down, from a look of embarrassment and modesty, and noticed Erik's letter at her feet. She bent down and picked it up, pulling it form its envelope and reading it. The second she finished, her heart stopped.

Who was this person, dropping notes along the stage? She had only heard one other account of mysterious notes, and these were among a series exchanged after the premiere of Chalameau's _Hannibal_, when Daae first performed as the leading soprano of the Opera Populaire. They were written in red ink, just as this one was, in elegant yet rushed script, and the enveloped were sealed with that oh-so peculiar wax seal. They belonged to only one: the infamous Phantom of the Opera.


	3. Not Meant For the Opera?

Chapter Three: Not Meant for the Opera...?

Erik made his way to Aleera's dressing room, his mind swarming with thoughts. What on earth was he doing, taking up another pupil like this? He had to be a teacher and nothing more to this girl. He would educate her in the ways of the opera, and attempt to keep her safe in the theater, but no further would he dare to tread. Erik could perhaps make her see her talent for what it was. Form her into a diva. He felt like Michaelangelo with the most pristine block of marble...

Second most pristine, he reminded himself with a cringe. He had to keep her at a distance; he couldn't possibly allow another naive young girl into his heart. He had already revealed his name to her, in an effort not to hear the title of "Angel of Music" once more. He could not allow any more personal disclosure, and that title seemed to make his stomach churn from the moment he beheld his Christine pressing her lips to her beloved vicomte's. Never again.

Meanwhile, at around seven minutes until her expected appointment, Aleera had dressed in her nightgown after fetching it from one of the main dorming rooms several girls shared, and slipped on a black shawl over it. She made her way to the dressing room, making sure to cut corners to avoid being caught by any of the opera house staff. Within a matter of moments, she had made it into her dressing room, her slippers scuffling along the ground. "Hello...? Erik...?" She called, before hearing his voice smoothly echo through her room.

"Hello, Aleera," Erik's sultry voice greeted. "Breathe deeply for a few moments please. This shall prepare you for singing."

"Singing...?" She muttered to herself, curious as to where her Phantom tutor could possibly be hiding. Maybe this was his style, to teach through voice and never touch. Sighing softly, she began to inhale and exhale slowly, steadying her heartbeat as it still beat rapidly from the second she opened Erik's letter.

"Good," he acknowledged her, nodding to himself contently. "You know to breathe from your stomach, not your chest. Now, I want you to follow my voice in a set of scales. Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah. Now." He then went silent, and listened intently as she hit every note. That seemed to be the only moment of silence he would provide, as the next several minutes provided his student with some stern criticism. Being the so-called musical genius everyone claimed him to be, he took his profession seriously.

"Now again, but higher."  
"Watch your pitch and round out your mouth."  
"Good girl, again higher."  
"No! Over that again, that is an E. Not a C, Aleera. There is a difference. Three more times."

He was somewhat patient as he waited to make another mistake, and would always respond with sharp comments and make her repeat the scale.

_Must everyone at this opera house be so harsh?, _Aleera asked herself around the fifth time she was snapped at. Every time this unseen man by the name of Erik corrected her, even in the form of a simple comment, Aleera winced or jumped a bit, as if she would risk being struck from her mistakes. She tried harder each time, singing over and over again, never having endured this type of criticism from someone for her singing. It was something that came easy for her, something she didn't come to understand the fundamentals of. She was completely unfamiliar with singing what seemed to be simple scales, unless they accompanied the melody of a song, but she pushed herself to obey everything Erik would instruct her to do.

After some time, Erik heard the strain in her voice as she tried to hit notes that were higher than her range. This is where they'd have to stop; he was getting more aggravated, and a throbbing sensation swept through his cranium.

"Stop there," he ordered, rubbing his temple with gloved fingertips. "You shall be able to sing those notes in time. Doing so now will only damage your voice for the future. You have a good mind for patterns. You can hear the notes but do not see them. You must learn the language of music fluently, to read as well as sing."

Suddenly, sheet music fluttered from the ceiling into the dressing room, and Aleera bent down to pick them up and place them in her arm. "The notes on the lines go E-G-B-D-F and the notes in the spaces are F-A-C-E," Erik continued. "Concern yourself only with the treble clef for now. This piece is Pamina's aria from Die Zauberflote. Learn it by the time I return tommorow. Be in the dressing room promptly at nine. Now go to Madame Giry. She wishes to go over the routines with you."

And with that, he left...

"I'll do my best..." Aleera said softly to the voice that she knew was no longer present. With a shaky sigh, she also exited the room, and headed for Madame Giry's office, to go over the routines. This new life was definitely going to take some getting used to, and she prayed her sanity wouldn't be relinquished as a result...

* * *

Erik crept through the corridors under the floor of the opera, to check in on his new student. He soon came to Giry's office and could hear the sharp rap of pointe shoes above his head. Judging from sound alone, Aleera was making a mistake every fifth step. This did not account for artistry or line, which Giry was picky at on the best day. Erik sighed. _The child needs work_, Erik thought to himself with a sigh.

Erik knew basic ballet. It had helped him to become as agile as he was, as his limber body passed through the stage's scaffolding. Finally, hearing Aleera foul her technique again, he burst through the trapdoor, making both females freeze in place.

"Giry!" he snapped in a very irritated tone. "Do not simply watch, teach! She has had no previous instruction and should not be in such shoes. She needs flat slippers for now, as the young girls do." His commands seemed to thunder through Giry's office, the words all the more opressive now that he was in the room. In response, Giry gave one curt nod as before and set off to find soft slippers that would fit their unexperienced student.

As Giry went off, the child stood there dumbstruck, almost gawking at this man clad in white mask and cape who had just popped out of nowhere from the trapdoor hidden within the floor. Erik's cold blue stare locked on her, his eyes narrowing slightly, making Aleera force a whimper from escaping her lips. "What are you staring at, child? Go to the barre," he ordered. "Now, turnout."

Erik, Angel of Ballet. Not bad, not bad at all.

While Aleera was grateful for the relief of flat shoes, her feet incredibly sore from earlier that day, she didn't easily appreciate hearing how terrible and ungraceful she was from two different sources. She knew she had little experience, but it wasn't her fault. Hearing her singing tutor's voice boom throughout every corner of the room made her wince like she usually did when Giry would snap at her. It could easily be seen she was a very naive, sensitive young girl, and that she truly tried her hardest. It just didn't suffice for her teachers. She muttered a comment of annoyance once or twice under her breath as she continued to dance, soon receiving her flat shoes and slipping them on in place of her pointes.

Meanwhile, Erik stepped back a bit, studying the line of her body and what needed the most improvement. He gave a grumble and strode forward to the barre, lifting her arm and setting her fingers in place, his warm gloves hand upon hers making her look up at him sheepishly. "Keep your hands loose and graceful. Never clawed, just draped."

He simply had to treat her body as an out of measure composition, correct the flaws and have her attempt the moves again. It made perfect sense in his mind. He hesitated for a moment, but in his role as teacher, clutched Aleera's ankle and moved it in an arc, causing her to wince more than she had when she had been reprimanded and corrected verbally. "I apologize for breeching moral code," he told her firmly, though his voice seemed to faintly waiver, "but your ronde de jambes were an insult to Madame Giry's teaching, not to mention my eyes. Again!" There we go, now his voice was firm enough.

Aleera looked up at her new instructor, coming face to face with him. The mask upon Erik's pale facial frame sparked something deep within her little mind, but she had to remain on task. She continued to dance, taking all of his criticisms, no matter how harsh, into consideration. Erik would definitely keep providing them, much to her displeasure. She was able to perfect some of her steps, though putting them together to create some ballet move was too difficult. Being pushed was neither beneficial for her performance nor her nerves. Now she was beginning to think her mother's request for her to join the talented others at the Opera Populaire was a large mistake.

She continued and continued, pushing herself to try and perfect each move so Erik could maybe provide at least a nod of acknowledgment. However, he could see that the poor child was overworked. At her next jump, he caught her and set her down gently, hearing a small gasp of surprise escape her. At that one moment, a thought of how pretty she appeared to him came into his mind, but he quickly brushed it away.

"Stop Aleera," he told her, in the calmest voice he had had with her all evening. "I shall rework the ballet in the opera to flat work. Society will no doubt find it new and exciting. You should be able to keep up with it..." He could see Aleera look away shyly, and just lightly gave the underside of her chin a tap, so she knew to face him. "Have no fear child, I can make this happen. After all, it is _my_ opera house. Go to bed. Have a pleasant sleep." He bowed.

"Thank you, Monsieur Erik..." was Aleera's only response, uttered before he left her once again, striding quickly through the halls to find Giry. When he spoke to her in a far more gentle tone, she couldn't help but realize his voice had a rather charming aura about it, almost enough to be hypnotic. When he left, she pushed her bangs from her eyes and also left a moment later, heading back to the room she was staying in.

Then came that moment of revelation. Halfway down the halls, she paused, and her hands went weak. Her breathing also picked up drastically. That silken voice...the declaration that this was his opera house, even though she had never seen him out during the day...and that white mask...

_Whose is the face in the mask...?_

"I-it's him..." She said breathlessly. "It was the Phantom..." She covered her mouth, her cheeks turning bright red. She then broke out into a run toward her room, despite the pain in her legs, a smile curling over her lips.

Erik heard the girl's whispered declaration whilst he was coming back from Giry's office after having argued with the ballet mistress and insisting that even the most cultured of the French nobility would not see beyond the ploy to use flat work. He chuckled despite himself at her breathless excitement, and raced back to her dressing room, just in time to catch her coming in in a hurry and closing the door. Grinning slightly, he began to whisper through the walls. "Were you expecting anyone else, Mademoiselle Aleera?"

Upon closing the dressing room door, Aleera's heart stopped when she heard Erik's voice once again. She looked around, not knowing where he could be hiding.

"I can't believe it was you..." She whispered, smiling. "I thought you were dead..." Blushing, she did the first polite, yet impulsive, thing she could ponder up and bowed to the empty space of the room. "It is...such an honor and pleasure to be in your presence..." Her cheeks were now completely red, in shyness and embarrassment.

"An honor and a pleasure?" Erik repeated, his brow slightly cocked. "Hmmm, that is a unique statement. Now do tell me Aleera, how did you come to be here? Surely you did not pass through the school, as you lack the basic technique as well as the strength and flexibility needed for a ballerina-" This caused Aleera to narrow her eyes slightly. "-... so what occured?" His voice pitched slightly, as he was actually curious.

Aleera sighed and picked her head up, before sitting down in a chair. Making himself comfortable, Erik leaned casually against the wall of the passageway he concealed himself within.

"Well..." Aleera began, "I had come to Paris two years ago. My parents were pretty successful in private businesses, and they needed a change of scenery. I saw two operas here, Chalameau's _Hannibal_ and Albrizzo's _Il Muto_, and from then on, I always wanted to be as graceful and talented as the dancers and singers here...especially like Christine Daae."

Erik winced, hearing the name of his almost forgotten angel. Shaking his head a few times, he made a decent attempt to continue to listen to this little chorus girl's story.

"Then..." Aleera continued, her soft and gentle voice growing cold, "my parents were murdered the same night I had attended _Il Muto_ and was on my way home, due to the show going...awry. In my mother's will, she left that she wanted me to be trained at the Opera to become something great, so I could finally have confidence in myself..." She felt her legs begin to shake, and she wiped a stray tear that had fallen from one of her chocolate-brown eyes. "That is my story..."

Erik didn't know what to say. He had lost his parents as well, never knowing his father, and never feeling maternal love as well. He stayed silent for a moment, before his voice became audible to Aleera again.

"I am sorry for all that has happened to you, child. One never deserves to lose a family. Get some sleep now; I will watch over you." Erik felt a smile ghost over his lips, the contentment entering his voice, making it as soothing as a lullaby.

Aleera felt a smile curl over her own pink lips. "...Thank you..." She said softly, before making her way to her bed. She had to change back into her ballerina outfit for Giry's tutoring, but she slipped beneath the covers, not minding at all that the skirt could wrinkle, or that the tulle of her tutu could fold. She collapsed back onto her pillow, wanting more than anything to sleep, but a thought entered her mind: why did she not hear him burst out in anger or grief when he heard Christine's name mentioned? And stranger still, why would he be so kind to her? She knew that due to his facial deformity, he had almost never been shown kindness, and had been shunned from society most of his life so he could never show others kindness in return. It all didn't make sense to her, but it put her at ease, her childlike naivety soothing her worries and making her feel grateful that he would watch over her. Soon, Aleera had slipped into a deep sleep.

When he had seen Aleera's eyes droop and finally shut, Erik let out a soft groan and leaned against the wall. His mind was swarming. Two faces fought within his head for dominance. They were eerily similar looking, yet one invoked, sadness, and the other, simple interest. He did not understand his actions toward Aleera. For once, he cared what someone thought of him. He wanted to please her, to guide her. This scared him as nothing else did. This _inhumanity_...  
Her dreams confused her, and in the middle of the night she found herself tossing and turning, scared to stay asleep, but not wanting to wake up. Her childhood dream had come true, she had met the one man who brought actual genius to the Opera Populaire, but now in her unconscious mind, she debated with herself whether that was a good thing, or something that would lead to tragedy.[/quote]

Soon Erik was startled out of his pondering's by the rustle of fabric in Aleera's bedroom. With care, he peered in the door way to find her drenched in sweat, but still asleep. Her face was twisted in a grimace as she dreamed of a heavy mental debate with herself over her "safety" within the Opera Populaire, now that the Phantom was involved. The object of interest in every childhood dream of hers. She murmured. "Erik... Phantom..." over and over again before finally sinking deeper into sleep. Erik's eyes grew wide with shock. Aleera was dreaming of him. It was not pleasant, but still, it did not appear to be a nightmare. Curiosity got the best of him and he strode to her opposite wall as stealthily as a cat, being careful to keep to the shadows.

In her unconscious state, Aleera couldn't hear him at all, and continued to mutter in her sleep, as her body soon grew still beneath the covers of her bed. Erik crept toward her, but froze when several very coherent items passed her sleepily hypnotized lips.

"I've waited so long...I've dreamed about you for years..." She grumbled softly, a small smile replacing the grimace on her face. "I don't care what people think...your face doesn't matter to me..." She then began to embrace her pillow tightly against her, as if in her dream, she were trying her best to comfort him.

Hearing her contented murmurs, the Phantom's mouth dropped open. He walked over to the bedside and tore off his leather gloves. He couldn't comprehend anything else but her words. Erik, no longer hesitant, laid a careful hand upon her cheek and sang softly so she wouldn't wake, but instead hear him in her dreams, just as he had done with Christine so long ago. The Angel of Music.

No, he thought with a start, never again.

He spoke in a mere whisper, "Please Aleera. Please bring me out of the darkness." Erik left then, a mere shade through the hallways of the Opera House...


	4. Dance With Me

Chapter Four: Dance With Me

Around a quarter past six the next morning, Erik's fist banging the door to Madame Giry's room could be heard. "Get up, Antoinette," he barked. "We have much to discuss, specifically about our new dancer, Mademoiselle Aleera."

Giry let out a soft irritated groan, but threw a shawl over herself and opened the door, letting Erik in. "What...are you talking about, Erik?" She asked him in a soft exhausted tone, her arms crossed, as they usually were.

The Phantom stepped into the room. "Aleera has no time to learn an aria for a vocal part and the ballet is her only chance," he continued, his eyes narrowing at Giry. "Let me make it flatwork and rehearse with the girls, or there will be a price to pay."

"Aleera is a beginning chorus girl. She'll have to learn like the rest and take it ste-"

"Yes, learn, Giry. This does not mean she should be banned from the stage until she makes up years of proper technique. These girls have been training since they were toddlers. One ballet, one opera, all I am asking for. It has to be for the performance for tomorrow night, which couldn't have crept up upon us at such a horrid time. For God's sake, gain a soul, Antoinette." Erik was fuming, pacing around her room like a madman.

Giry let out a sigh of aggravation and thought for a moment. Upsetting Erik was never a good thing, especially with what he was capable of. She would also have to explain this to the girls, and that might result in Aleera's growing unpopularity. "Well...alright," she said, emotionless but stern, "just this once. But...I am leaving a good portion of Aleera's training in your care. Even with flats, she'll need extra practice, and I have enough on my schedule to ready my other girls for the opera."

Erik let out a growl and put his head in his hands for a moment. "I am finishing an opera, but I shall train her," he said in an almost-groan. "You cannot, however, simply pass her off to me. The technique is different for men and women, you know that. You have to step in at the point where she would need it."

Thinking for a moment, Erik clenched his teeth and hissed. "If you tell the other girls that this is Mademoiselle Aleera's shortcoming for the ballet to be flat work, I shall be very angry with you, Antoinette. Say it was...-" A smirk curled over his lips. "-a stroke of creative intellect and make it seems groundbreaking. Lord knows all of Parisian society shall find it thrilling. The uncultured morons would respond to anything we put on that stage with applause, and you know it."

Giry paused for moment, this one being longer, before letting out an aggravated sigh and nodding to his request. "You do have a point. Anything out of the ordinary would be given the title of 'culture'... Alright, I won't mention a thing to the other girls. And I'll train them all, including Aleera, to the best of my abilities."

After a pause that she thought meant her own dismissal, Giry then remembered something from that night. "Erik, do you suppose our young chorus girl discovered who it was that was instructing her last night?" she asked, looking toward the Phantom.

"Must you really ask questions that undermine your intelligence?" Erik countered, rubbed his temples in frustration. "Of course; she had discovered that it was the infamous Phantom of the Opera instructing her, and did not quite know what to make of that subject at the moment. Fortunately she came to her senses..." He cleared his throat and muttered almost unintelligibly, "I spoke to her in her sleep."

"Ah...so she wasn't lying about that in her fidgety state when she got here..." Giry muttered to herself. She, too, cleared her throat, and then changed the subject. "Anyway, I must go and wake the girls for practice. I won't say a single thing about her being the reason for our new...routines..."  
Giry then walked into the other room that connected to that one, and closed the door with a bit of a firm slam behind her so as to change. Erik only sighed and shook his head at her attitude. Leaving the room, he once more skulked along the passagways, coming to the rafters above the stage, knowing it wouldn't be too long before he could once again hear the gentle rapping of pointe shoes against the stage to start the long day.

Antoinette was not one to cut her rehearsals short...

* * *

After dressing, Madame Giry hurried to the girls' rooms and woke them up the best way she knew: throwing the blinds of each room open and clapping her hands to wake the girls up. Aleera, however, woke with a surprised jolt, before groaning and looking down at herself. She noticed she had slept in her ballerina outfit, but hadn't wrinkled it too much, as she had laid still and calm during the night. She stood, fixed her dress and ran a brush through her hair quickly, before rushing down to the stage, beating everyone there, a new determination having blossomed after that night. She ran straight to the barre and began her stretches, watching as her fellow dancers joined her with exhausted eyes soon after.

Erik paced over the rafters above them, watching as the girls began to warm up, stretching their legs on the barre. He soon spotted Aleera, having not noticed her before when she rushed onto the stage, and walked to the rafter right above her head. He threw his voice to Aleera's ear, one of a very sultry yet comforting type.

"Practice your turnout," he instructed her softly. "Flatwork or not, stretch it and coax it all you can, or you will surely fail." He knew he was being harsh, but the other girls were nearly perfect with theirs and Aleera had a lot of catching up to do.

Aleera could hear his every word, and only gave a small, slightly invisible nod toward this. She planned to push herself more than she possibly ever had before. From the corner of her eye, she could see the other girls, whispering to each other and glancing over at her quickly before giggling. One of them even walked past her and kicked her pointe shoe out of her reach, causing the rest of the girls to laugh, with the exception of a select few, including young Meg, Madame Giry's soft-spoken daughter. Aleera just kept her gaze down and finished stretching, before they all grouped together near Giry.

Erik sighed softly. He pitied this girl. Actually _pitied_ someone that wasn't his own miserable self. He knew the others might be bitter toward her, but if it were to get to too extreme of a point, he wouldn't hesitate to make himself known and forcefully add his two cents into the scenario.

Just as the hopeless brunette was about to rise and attend Giry's attention toward the edge of the stage, Erik had to add a few more instructions. "Just try your best, my nightingale. That is all that I can wish." His whisper was calm and contented. Erik truly wanted her to be happy, but he knew that if she was thinking of things other than ballet, she could not possibly dance well. Especially at her skill level, it demanded full attention. And neither he nor Giry could go long without having to step in and comment. "Listen to Giry, she will make it clear to you. We shall work on the finer points tonight... and don't go near those pointe shoes. You shall surely break something." And with that, Aleera made no response, and approached the group that had formed around Giry.

"Alright, girls," she began in her stern tone, "there has been a change in plans for the ballet in this opera. It has come to my attention that the Parisian people need some...variety in this show, and to ensure more vivid movement from each and every one of you, we shall be using flat shoes from now until our rehearsal for our next show."

To this, a few of the girls groaned, others looked confused, as a few glared back at Aleera, thinking that she might've convinced their instructor to make the routines more elementary for her to follow. Aleera just shrank down, and tried to keep her head up.

"Giry!" Erik now threw his voice in her direction, whispering harshly," Do not give the harlots time to gossip. Routines, NOW! Start with a few jumps, make sure they are winded."

Giry seemed to jump, instantly responding to Erik's orders, and had the girls practice several exercises and jumps before they started their routines, watching them all carefully. Especially Aleera. Erik observed, noting every mistake she made. The girl lacked any natural grace, that had been made obvious for too long. Finally, he just couldn't take it. An art form was being insulted. He leaped from his perch high above the stage and strode out before the frightened ballerinas toward Aleera, who turned just in time to see him with intimidation. Erik finally seized her about the waist.

"Hold yourself like this or you appear as a duck!" He moved her ribcage inward. Turning behind, Erik's cold blue eyes narrowed at the girls. "What are you all staring at?" he remarked harshly. "Back to your dancing. Celine, arms in on your pirouette and Nanette, what are you, a dancer or a cow? For God's sake, be light on your landings!"

Erik let out a huff and then turned back to Aleera. Once startled, the amateur chorus girl stood in hopeless melancholy, telling herself mentally that she would never be good enough. It was a mistake that she was here and she knew it. Several of the girls, including the ones Erik barked at, now seemed to be glaring hatefully at Aleera, making her feel even lower.

Seeing his pupil like this, Erik hesitated before reaching out and briefly caressing her soft cheek with his glove-clad hand, a part of him disappointed that he couldn't feel her skin again as he did that night. "They are just jealous of what you will be," he whispered to her. There is nothing to be afraid of, nothing to regret. Live Aleera, and for my sake, dance." He hesitated again for a moment and then smoothly pulled her into another dance stance: tango. His hand met her hip and Aleera responded with a small whimper and a deep shade of crimson spreading over her cheeks.

"Girls, grab a partner and follow my feet. We have a new bit of choreography." He led Aleera up and down the stage. This, he could tell, she had natural talent for, much more so than the other girls. And he was absolutely correct, since on early evenings when Aleera's father _did _have time at home, he would teach her this dance. Repeat the count in your head, don't step on your partner's feet, and always keep eye contact, he would tell her. They danced as if they were one person, umber locked on cobalt, and Erik found himself feeling more alive than he had in a while.

After a few moments, Erik smiled down at his young partner and waggled an eyebrow, "Watch this..." He turned to the ballerinas and said, "Who will dance with me?"

The ballerinas paused, not knowing what to do. They didn't want to anger him, but not one girl other than Aleera could ever dream of dancing with him. He was terrifying to them. Most of them shrank down and tried to hide behind the other girls, so they couldn't be picked if it came down to that. This caused Erik to laugh sharply, before he slowly broke away from Aleera and approached a tall girl with honey colored hair, holding his hand out to her. Erik purred to her in his most sultry, seductive voice. "Do me the honor, Amelie?"

The blonde's face turned bright red, and she took a step back, also confused as how to respond. Aleera could only watch on and giggle as the girls stood there frozen on the stage, but try to hide it. Listening to his change of tone even made a shiver go up _her _spine, but in a different fashion she found rather confusing.

Erik strode forward, no longer accepting silence as an answer, and grabbed Amelie's hand, pulling her to him. He began the passionate and fiery dance of the tango. His footwork was perfect and his body divine as he stepped Amelie along the stage, waiting for the other girls' reactions.

Slowly, the other ballerinas' faces turned from frightened, to intrigued. Aleera even moved to stand with them, watching on with wide, childlike eyes as Erik danced with Amelie. The tall girl's face was redder than her own had been when she danced with him, and she tried to keep up with Erik's choreography.

It was definitely obvious she didn't have as much skill in this form of dance as Aleera had. Erik stopped suddenly and pursed his lips. "Amelie, how is it that you can move along the steps of classical ballet with such precision and ease, but you cannot adaquately execute the steps of the tango?" He asked, crossing his arms and frowning. His eyes then began to scan over the other girls. "I am waiting for an answer, from all ofe you. Dance is dance in any form. You are mimickers when you can follow and artists when you can adapt."

Erik then did something that none of the girls could have seen coming. As if they still hung on his every word, he strode confidently across the stage, leaving Amelie standing there, and coming to stop at one specific girl. "This woman," he began, gesturing toward Aleera, "is a dancer. She may lack your precise technique, but she has the passion you can only dream of. Your dances are cold and meaningless without it. Embrace it. Allow yourself to feel as you never have before. Let the music become you and dance, dance with your soul." He then held his hand out to Aleera, noticing the soft blush that still graced her cheeks. "Girl's, pick a partner with each other and follow my feet. Don't think, just let the dance take you." His voice was smooth and nearly sweet, and he was beaming with childlike excitement.

Aleera blinked a few times when she saw Erik extend his hand to her once again, but she soon stepped forward, taking it and facing him, while the other girls behind her scrambled to get a partner. Aleera looked up into Erik's eyes, and her blush only worsened as Erik began their dance. He dipped her down and then pulled her up again, feeling their hips tight against each other. He looked upon the child with admiration now, that excitement still burning in his gaze. "You are wonderful, Aleera," he whispered softly.

Aleera bit her bottom lip nervously, keeping her composure and count. "Thank you..."

"Speak child, tell me about what you wish to learn..."

"Well... I don't care if I'm the best ballerina. I've always wanted to be a great dancer, but in this style, with someone else..." she replied softly, her voice showing how shy she had become.

The Phantom growled slightly, the sound guttural, causing his partner to whimper. "You cannot doubt yourself if you are to dance the tango. Let yourself go. We must be utterly in sync without any sense of weakness. Be firey and powerful. I have faith in you."

"At least someone does..." She nodded in response, and continued to dance with him, her body loosening up, dancing with Erik with even more passion than her father had taught her to use. She was enjoying herself for the first time in the opera house. Erik could even see this and smiled, pleased with her change of disposition.

After a few minutes, he finally ceased his dance, and the chorus girls followed suit soon after. "You girls can go back to your dressing rooms," he said briefly. "Forget the tango. Tomorrow, rehearse the combinations from _Don Quixote_. We will have only one soloist tomorrow night: Madamoiselle Aleera, who shall be dancing with me. It is time you all learned your place." He spoke coldly, but the pride for Aleera was evident in his voice. The girls all gave an obedient nod and then hastily filed off the stage.

Aleera went to follow them, but Erik stepped forward and stopped her, grasping onto her wrist. When they had finally left even earshot of anything that would occur within the theater, she looked back at him with slightly widened eyes.

"Monsieur Erik...that was... I don't know what to say..." she almost squeaked out, her hands fidgeting.

Erik saw this and chuckled, finding it rather cute. "Darling, the passion... the presence in your dance rivals them all," he said. "I would like to rehearse with you again later tonight. The same time we first were unofficially acquainted last night, but here on this stage. And tomorrow morning, I will instruct Giry to leave you to sleep, and an hour after normal rehearsals start for tomorrow's performance, I will fetch you from your dressing room and we shall find somewhere...private, to go over our dance." He paused. "For tonight, do change your shoes into short black heels and slip on a formal, red dress that allows you to move." Erik ended with a smile. and he patted her shoulder.

Aleera gave him an excited nod and went to go and do what she had been instructed. A few feet from the stage steps, she just had to turn and smiled at him. "Thank you, Monsieur Erik..." she said softly, before running off, her smile widening.

"You are welcome, Madamoiselle Aleera," Erik said, an unfamiliar twinkle in his eye. One that hadn't occurred since he took it upon himself to train Christine. "It is something worthy of talent. _Your_ talent. You will be lovely..." He stood with his hands behind his back. "I shall return in a few moments. I also must change." Erik smiled and watched as she vanished, before descending to the cellars.


	5. The Little Angel

Chapter Five: The Little Angel...

Aleera walked into her dressing room, closing the door behind her. The second she heard the lock click, she fell back against it and almost sank to the floor. Did the Phantom just show..._ kindness_ to her? And was he actually present to tell the other girls, all of whom were so much more talented than her, that the next day, she would be dancing with him in a solo performance? The thoughts were enough to make her desire a bottle of the strongest spell and a chair to steady herself in, but her childish mind wouldn't allow her conceive of such an option.

Letting out a soft sigh and figuring that she might as well dive or fail, she moved from the door and walked over to her wardrobe. Opening the doors, she reached for a wine red dress that graced the very back of it with a soft ruby sheen. It was a gorgeous piece, one that her mother had made special for her just a year prior to her death when she had off from her business. It had been a size too large then, but now, she could easily fit into it. She slowly slipped it on and then reached for a pair of black shoes that she had also brought with her to the opera house. Finally she walked over to her vanity mirror, running her fingers through her hair to flatten it and adjust her bangs, then staring at her reflection for a good few moments. She moved her fingertips down the length of her dress, straightening out the thin wrinkles in it.

"Why don't I find this situation stranger?" she asked herself almost silently. "Aleera, the Phantom of the Opera is going to be alone with you on that dark stage. Why aren't you afraid, you stupid girl?" Figuring it was no use to beat herself up over this, she began to reach for her rouge and vial of eye makeup. No, there was no need to ruin her face yet with this harlot paint. She diverted her reach from the makeup and grasped for her favorite possession: a satin red lily hairclip, which rested delicately on the vanity table. She slid it into her hair to one side and nodded contently at her reflection.

"I suppose this will do..."

* * *

"My dear god, why do I allow myself to become wrapped up in such situations?"

Erik sighed, his gaze almost inattentive as he reached into his armoir rummaging through it.

"This is just another girl," he grumbled to himself, attempting to keep his mind from being overtaken by alien thoughts. "Aleera would just be another Christine. Besides, she acts like a child. Not that that's a terrible thing; she might not be as afraid of me as the othe- oh, what am I saying?! She just is unaware that I am a cold-blooded killer...a monster..."

Finally deciding on an outfit suitable for the occasion, Erik reached to the very back corners of the armoir, taking out a shirt with a ruffled, open collar and a pair of slim black trousers, as well as a richly embroidered black vest. No cravat, he decided. That would ruin the effect. Slipping on a black cape as well as a black mask rather than his white one, he strolled out of the cellars and ascended to the stage.

* * *

Aleera let out a shaky sigh as she exited her dressing room a few moments later, heading slowly to return to the main theater. She entered almost silently, walking from the side of the stage, seeing Erik standing there casually, waiting for her to arrive. The stage he stood on was merely lit by the candles that were positioned around its perimeter, the remainder of the theater dark. She slowly strode up to him as to avoid tripping, her heels making soft clicking noises against the floor. She gave him a soft tap on the shoulder, and smiled up at him as he turned to face her. "Is this suitable for the tango?" She asked softly.

The moment Erik's eyes beheld the young woman, his breathing stopped. The burgundy silk of the dress hugged her every curve and brought out the familiar blush in her cheeks. Her gleaming hair was held back by a red lily hair pin. She was a true vision. Bringing himself out of the blatant adoration, he finally found the breath to speak.

"You look more than suitable... in fact, you look beautiful," he said softly, causing the chorus girl to blush even more, which in turn caused his lips to form a gentle smile. He held out his hand to her, which this time lacked the cover of a glove. "Shall we begin?"

"Thank you..." she whispered shyly, taking Erik's hand. She could feel the callused worn-ness of them, the hands of a musical genius that had been at work for many years. She turned to face him in the proper fashion, her other hand in its proper place on the Phantom's upper arm. "Let's dance."

"Remember your count," he reminded her briefly, before he began to whirl her around. They danced seductively, and at each beat, Erik would dip her down the slightest amount. He guided Aleera's careful footwork at every moment. "Good. Very good," he coaxed her, not stopping to correct any mistakes, as it seemed, to his surprise, this natural talent of hers remained flawless. He was too caught up in this time and place to stop anyway, feeling the air around him take on a more heated element.

Aleera remained concentrated on Erik's steely cobalt eyes as they danced, her heart pounding faster than the rhythm they seemed to follow. Why wasn't he correcting her? Surely she had to be making numerous mistakes. But...perhaps she was finally doing something right.

After a good while, Erik knew they had to stop, and with one final stride, he brought her to cease dancing. "You should go rest now, little darling," he told her, "seeing as how you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow. I expect to see you in costume tomorrow at rehearsal and then at the time of the performance..." He then paused for a moment, struggle evident in his gleaming eyes. "Would you like me to keep you company for a while longer tonight?" he finally asked, almost blurting it out.

Aleera's heart almost stopped. Alright, now the plot was thickening all the more. _This could...this might lead to a good opportunity for the both of us_, she thought as she finally nodded slowly. "I think I'd like that very much." She then began to walk with him off stage left and proceed to head back to her dressing room. _Now I must be either dreaming or crazy... _"You're the only one I've become acquainted with in this opera house that hasn't shown any scorn toward me..."

"Why on earth would anyone show you contempt? You are beautiful, intelligent, and of esteemable kindness. What have you done to deserve ill will?" he asked, followed her to the dressing room, keeping a respectable space between their bodies in the hallway, as was proper.

"The other girls don't like the fact that I'm a novice." She hid her face and how much it had reddened. "After all, the only reason I'm here is because of my mother's will. I know I can sing rather well, and I have what it takes to dance, but I think what I really lack is pride or a good amount of confidence. My parents were never around at home, but when my mother did spend her time with me, she noticed that I couldn't really appreciate my capabilities..."

"It is alright, Aleera. I will teach your voice, mold it to that of a seraph. As for the dancing, you must learn technique and poise. Practice as much as you possible can. I will help you child, but there is one thing I cannot help with..." As Erik watched Aleera reach for the doorknob to the dressing room upon arrival, he stopped and placed his index finger beneath her chin to raise her pale face to him. He gazed into her eyes, somber and calm, "You must believe in what you can do."

The brunette child gazed back into Erik's eyes, and nodded slowly, a slim hand now merely resting on the undisturbed doorknob. "I will, Monsieur Erik, I promise. Thank you for offering to help me though..." A small smile curled over her soft lips. She then thought of something and looked down for a moment. "You know...last night while I slept, I could've sworn I heard your voice in my dreams..."

Erik cleared his throat, blushing profusely. "You were overtired, Mademoiselle. Surely you had very vivid dreams... But...the fact that you were actually thinking of me in your unconscious state...? How interesting." He raised his eyebrow and impulsively kissed her wrist.

The second she felt his lips against her skin, Aleera's face went deep red, and she averted her gaze from his. "I suppose I do have an overactive imagination..." She said. "But then aga- oh, nevermind me."

Erik chuckled as the door was finally opened and they stepped into the room. He took one step in and eyed the velvet chair in the dressing room. "I don't care to 'nevermind' you, mademoiselle Aleera. You captured my interest far too much to shrug it off now... May I sit?"

Aleera merely nodded. "Of course you may..." she answered, to which her guest took advantage and sat swiftly in the seat, his feline prowess making him as graceful as ever. She then sat in another chair, across from the plush one. "Well, you were one of the reasons I wanted to come here, and get to see how the opera house worked. I know you're behind a lot of the operation on stage and off."

Erik's eyes widened in disbelief. "You wished to know the man behind the monster?" He gasped incredulously, "Excuse my impudence mademoiselle, but what is it that attracts you to me?"

Blinking once or twice at his surprise, Aleera gave a calming smile and attempted to explain. "Well, all my life I've heard rumors about you," she said. "The great, talented, and terrifying Phantom of the Opera. A man who is both a musical genius and a force never to be reckoned with. I heard you being described as a...a man who appears hypnotic in appearance, debonaire and handsome, but with a ghastly deformity on one half of his face, and a temper that could chill your blood." She laughed softly, shaking her head. "It seemed too ridiculous. In my opinion, you seem to be one of the only geniuses the world has ever known what hasn't been recognized for their abilities, and shunned for their madness...and...disfigurement. It seems unfair...and when I had turned seven, and heard every lick of information that could be provided through the public word, I said to myself - and I can remember it quite clearly, 'He doesn't deserve it. One day, I'll move to the opera house and tell the world how great...he is'..." She paused and then cleared her throat. "Pardon my ramblings... I suppose the monster first spurred my interest, but the man was the continued object of it..."

"I do truly have a temper that makes hearts stop. Fortunately for you my dear, you have done nothing deserving of such an outburst." Erik laughed gently then rose briefly to touch Aleera's nose, before his eyes turned cold and he sank back into the seat. "See that you don't test me." This caused the girl to shrink in size about an inch. Finally, he smiled slightly, his eyes liquid with beautiful emotion. "You are a remarkable woman, Aleera."

A smile was soon brought to Aleera's face. "Thank you, Monsieur Erik..." She said softly, her cheeks starting to slightly lose their bright red color.

"You are welcome, ma cher. Now, what do you wish to know of me?"

"Well...I've heard many ludicrous stories about how you came to live beneath the opera house. What's the real story...?"

"You wish to know? The whole thing... Well..." He collected his thoughts for a moment, before beginning, his voice void of most emotion.

"I was born the son of Charles and Madeliene de Boscherville. He was a master mason and died in an accident a few months before my birth. My mother saw my deformity and could not bring herself even to nurse me. She made me a mask. When I refused to wear it on my fifth birthday, Madeleine did something that scarred me for all my life. She tore my mask off and moved me in front of a mirror. I thought the terrifying visage was a monster. I smashed the glass, cutting my hands and wrists horribly. Madeleine could not bring herself to care for me. Her maid, Marie, bandaged me. I still bear the scars." Erik showed his wrists to Aleera.

"A priest in the town, Father Mansart, heard my voice and educated me in the ways of the Lord. One day, village boys attacked my dog, Sasha. She was my only friend, the only one who did not mind my face. When he told me animals did not have souls, I lashed out. He gave me an exorcism and I ran away. I was captured by gypsies and displayed around Europe as the _Devil's_ _Child_. The master, Javert, molested me. So I murdered him and ran again... It was my first kill. I became the apprentice to a man named Giovanni. He was an architect and the first person that had ever treated me with kindness. I became infatuated with his daughter, Luciana. One day, she ripped off my mask and was terrified by what she saw. She fell down a flight of stairs to her death. I couldn't bring myself to see Giovanni's pain, so I went away and traveled Europe for a while before I was discovered by man named Nadir Khan. He hired me as the political assassin of the shah of Persia. This is where I mastered the Punjab lasso, a unique form of noose. His son Raji was suffering from a horrible, deadly disease, and Nadir asked me to put him out of his misery. I did, and since then Nadir has been my friend.

"After this, I sent blueprints to a young architect named Charles Garnier. I told him he could sign his name if he followed my plans exactly. He did. No one knew about the 3-5th cellars. So I came hear to study my true passion. Music. I met and fell in love with my student, a beautiful soubrette named Christine Daae, who then went off with her Vicomte to be married." He looked up at Aleera, his eyes swimming with various emotions. "Now we have come full circle, haven't we?"

Having listened to it all with an attentive ear and open heart, Aleera sat there still, her heartbeat having quickened, and her stomach seeming to sink to the bottom of her chest. She had heard that this poor man was feared by his mother, and she had heard of the love-triangle affairs between himself, Christine, and the Vicomte, but she couldn't have ever brought herself to imagine the exact caliber of the misery he had lived through since his birth, and what his face truly did to him. Her gaze, once again, lowered to the floor, not to hide a blushing on her pale cheeks as she had done several times before, but to hide her eyes that were filling with tears of the dearest sympathy she had ever felt for someone, even more than she had felt for herself the day her parents were murdered. "I...I don't know what to say..." She said in as soft a voice as possible, so he wouldn't hear her in case her voice cracked, several tears falling to the floor.  
"My life is my life Aleera," Erik said almost nonchalantly, as if his situation didn't phase him anymore. "My wretched face has cursed me to hide in the shadows, when I have mind deserving of the light..." Suddenly, a certain idea flashed through his mind. "...Would you like to glimpse it? Truly see the reason for my isolation?" Erik raised his eyebrow and glanced upward, as if to challenge her.

"If you wish to show me, and inform me of why you've gone through what you say you have...go ahead," the somewhat surprised Aleera said weakly, lifting her head up, wiping her tears away. "But, I can promise you, I won't run..."

"You are the first person to invite me to remove my own mask, rather than have it torn from my cheek." Erik took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Bringing his hand to the smooth blackened leather, he peeled it away and set it upon the table, which Aleera watched with soft eyes. Opening his grey-blue eyes cautiously, he peered upward at Aleera.

Aleera allowed her gaze to slowly move and focus on his face. A gasp arose in her throat, but she desperately tried to keep it down, and her dark brown eyes widened in shock. His brow was missing, and beneath it his eye's pupil was constricted, the iris a paler shade of blue. A gash lay beneath the slightly-balding side of his head, revealing exposed skull tissue. On his cheek, several more gashes and scab-like spots rested along his seemingly raw skin. That unexposed side of his face...he looked nothing more than a beast of the undead. In Aleera's mind, she told herself over and over again not to overreact, and for the most part, she didn't. Not a scream passed her lips, and not a single sick feeling blossomed in her belly. She merely sat there, her hands shaking a bit as they held onto the edges of the chair.

Erik watched her, keeping his eyes liquid. He could see the fear, that obvious, familiar in her tense expression. The intense control she put over her face. She seemed to be desparately trying not to hurt him.

"Well, Aleera? What do you think of it?" He chuckled a bit and strode over to her chair, dropping to his knees before her.

She moved back an inch in her chair as he approached her and moved to his knees, but she didn't once look away. She breathed in deeply, and swallowed a knot that had formed in her throat. "Monsieur Erik..." she began, "when my parents were...murdered, I had to be taken to the coroner's, to confirm their identities." A small, shaky sigh passed her lips. "...I saw every last flesh wound that could be seen upon their bodies. Compared to that, your face makes little difference in the affairs of what I fear...what I wish to never see once or again..." There was some fear in her eyes, but not enough to cause her to act out, as so many would upon seeing Erik. "And as you can see, I haven't turned away for a moment...and I won't, ever."

_...Those words didn't just pass her lips. She cannot find me acceptable! God, you sick being, what spell has this child...this angel have to cast upon me?_

"I am sorry you had to experience that, Aleera. No child should see her parents die." Erik's eyes then seemed to sparkle, as they were filled with the sweetest compassion. He placed her hands upon his cheeks and tears began to run down his face onto them. "Thank you, Aleera...for seeing me as I am."

Aleera's facial expression was now one of compassion, and she lifted one of her hands to brush some of his tears away. From the abhorrid side of his face. Her fingertips ghosting slightly over his skin. "Monsieur Erik...why must you weep?" she asked him softly. "Have I saddened you in the slightest way?"

Erik looked up at her and shook his head, laughing softly as his tears continued to flow. "Not at all, my little darling," he replied. "My tears fall because you have brought joy into my bruised heart."

"...I have?"

"Mademoiselle, even Christine found more terror in my haunted face than you have. It is...I'm just..." He moved up, gazing into those rich umber eyes of hers. "How can you be so wonderful...?"

Erik's face was only seven or so inches from Aleera's, and she backed up more from his suddenness. "Monsieur Erik...I'm not wonderful. I'm a silly little chorus girl who acts as if she is still a toddler. I would only push one away if harm was meant to me."

This shock for the Phantom seemed almost unbearable. "As long as you are in this house, Aleera, I can assure you...I will protect you." And with that, Erik's arms moved swiftly around Aleera in an act of hasty gratitude and affection. "No harm shall ever befall you..."

Aleera froze, overtaken by this haste. She had never been taught courtesy of the different sexes, but this was surely not gentlemanly of Erik. Oh, why was she kidding herself? She smiled softly and wrapped her arms loosely about him. "Thank you..."

Erik pulled away, but only slightly, gazing into her eyes, his own having ceased their cascading. "Aleera..." He breathed her name and rested his hand upon her cheek, causing her to whimper and shake. He frowned slightly. "Do you really hold no fear for the demon that kneels before you...? You seem to..." He then noticed his hand, the closing distance between them, and stood abruptly, reaching for the newly cooled leather mask on the table once again and placing it back on.

"Are you alright, Monsieur Erik?" Aleera asked, truly confused. "Did I offend you?"

_Far from it, my little angel. _"Of course not, mademoiselle," Erik replied with a clearing of his throat. "I apologize for moving so upon you. I'm afraid...I must leave you for tonight..."

"Oh..." The brunette sighed, rather disappointed for the oddest reason unbeknownst to her. "I suppose this is goodnight then...? Until tomorrow...?"

A smile curled over Erik's lips, and he strode toward her again and bent forward, taking her hand and lightly pressing his lips to her knuckles. "Until tomorrow, my little darling..." he whispered in an echo. And with that, he gave one bow to her and left the room closing the door softly behind him.

Later that night, in the catacombs beneath the Opera Populaire, for over a mile from location, one could easily swear they could hear the screams and weeping of some tormented man coming from the sewer openings. As if someone had reached for his chest, only to manually rip his swelling heart from it...


	6. The Plans Come Together

**So here's the deal. I've been feeling the need to place in several filler chapters to my story, since not only is it necessary, but my roleplay has gone through a lot in little time, and I need to add little bits and bobs to keep it lengthy and prevent it from skipping to too much gunk. You'll see what I mean; these things, I take seriously. Btw, in MY world...the Phantom? He has hair. Toupee is a no-no.  
**

Chapter Six: The Plans Come Together**  
**

Today was the day. _Don Quixote _would be premiered tonight, and the newest addition to the house, little Aleera Lorenti, would be dancing in a solo performance after only two days of practice. Even stranger of details was that none other than the Phantom of the Opera would be her dance partner, leading her across the stage. Things would definitely be interesting...

Rather early that morning, just as the sun began to caress the horizon, Erik was wide awake, sitting in his coffin where he had decided to settle for a slumber of only several hours. In simple terms, he was a mess. A complete and total mess of a man. The previous night spending time in Aleera's company had brought him through such heaven and hell all at once, that he began to spiral downward in a manic fashion. He cried for hours, trying to maintain his temper so he didn't destroy anything. His mask lay upon the organ in his lair, and his shirt was completely open, body warm with anxiety. He was destroyed, he was furious. But even more so, he was confused as all hell.

What was it about this girl, Aleera, that set him on fire in so many ways? How truly naive and stupid was she not to fear him, to scream as she beheld his monstrous face? And what had turned her compassionate eyes his way, like a little angel, to soothe the pain he had held dormant inside him for so long?

Erik sat deep in thought, empty tears flowing down his cheeks. _How did I win this child's sympathy? She can see the light in me, not the monster. Perhaps her growing up without parents...perhaps they never taught her what to truly fear. Thank God for that. _

He stood up from his lamenting stupor and traveled slowly toward the organ, retrieving the familiar white accessory he had worn for so long and placing it upon his face. _I'm deathly afraid of tonight, and it's not for the fact of her first performance. She will be with me. She'll be wonderful...beautiful. I paid for my impulsive actions once, I won't do it again. I would lose the friend I could have in Aleera. A friend...nothing more. That's something I haven't found in more than a number of people I can count on one hand. Why would something so fantastic hurt me like this?_

Taking a deep sigh, Erik traveled from the organ to his armoir, seeking for an appropriate outfit for practice. He decided quickly on a loose dress shirt and a pair of black breeches and changed into them, throwing his other clothes on the organ's bench. He then took a comb to his hair and brushed it back, tying it in a ponytail with a black ribbon. A bit feminine, but it would do. His hair had surprisingly begun to grow long again, and he kept it that way. His receding hairline on the deformed side of his face grew out much slower, but as his mask adorned his skin, the unevenness would be hardly noticeable.

Sliding his cape on, he boarded the small gondola that rested beside his lair, lighting the candle that hung from the front end of it, and pushed off once inside. Madame Giry still had yet to hear of his plans to have Aleera and him star in their own number, and Erik doubted she was even awake at this hour, but he'd have to beat her to the girls. He had to have enough time to both argue with Giry - as it was evident to happen - and set up the routines for the other girls, who surely wouldn't be happy with more changes. He would also wake Aleera himself, but a bit earlier than she might desire to. She was still unexperienced, and they'd have to do the routine over and over. Being forced into the spotlight this early might cause the girl some alarm, but Erik figured it'd be best to know what she was in for while living here, and that she needed to try her hardest.

Within several minutes, he had crossed the lake and stepped onto dry land again, tying the gondola to an iron post protruding from the wall before beginning to head up the path to the Opera House above. He hoped he could persuade Giry to let Aleera perform, in the way he desired. It usually didn't take him too long before he got what he wanted.

* * *

"Absolutely not, Erik."

"Antoinette, you're be-"

Giry rolled her eyes. "Erik, don't you dare label me as being anything except fair. I let you change the girls' routines into flatwork. I stepped aside when you taught the girls choreography. But now, you place Mademoiselle Aleera in heels and a scantily-clad dress and expect me to allow you two to perform a solo?"

Erik looked at Giry and growled. "Listen, Antoinette, most of these performances would crash and burn without my guidance," he sneered, eyes silver-blue in forming rage. "I disposed of Carlotta and relieved Paris of its growing head pains. I made sure every overlooked rope or gear or lever was in proper place and alignment, while your stagehands walked along the rafters in drunken stupors. I-" He felt that sickening feeling return. "...I was the one who made Christine Daae a star." God, how he detested that name. The person whom it belonged to. "The very least you could do is allow me this one last...adjustment."

"Erik...I'm sorry," Giry sighed, pulling her shawl more securely around her, "but it is far too late to adapt our routines to accommodate you and Aleera. It would take far too much work with both the orchestra, stagehands, managers, and other performers, and neither you nor I, even together, could accomplish a feat like that. Besides, need I remind you how inexperienced your partner is?"

"Perhaps in the ways of ballet, but her true gift is the tango. She's brilliant; she has the grace and natural talent for it that none of the other girls have! Bloody hell, why do I even try..." The Phantom leaned against the wall of Giry's office, reaching one gloved hand up to massage his temple. Antoinette was stubborn, that was evident, but Aleera needed this. _He _needed this. And Parisian society would adore it and award it with thunderous applause. He'd have to think of a way to make this happen.

"After the curtain closes..." Erik picked his head up. "Don't those people cheer on for an encore of some sort? We've almost never been able to satiate their hunger, but this... If the performance tonight is a success - and it surely will be, as the plot of _Don Quixote _is so widely loved - they will desire an encore. Please, Antoinette..." He placed his hand on the woman's shoulder. "For our encore? I have written out a musical number that would be quite suitable for the performance, not too out of place. The 'cultured' idiots will adore it."

Giry froze. Now why was Erik fighting so hard and asking for so much? To give this girl a chance, and a hopeless one at that? It was almost obvious to her; all the answers lay in Erik's expression. She shook her head, not in denial of request, but in a sense of woe. "Oh Erik...please, don't tell me you-"

He knew instantly what angle Giry saw this from and beat her to it. "Of course not, you daft woman. I'm not a child; I learn from mistakes that drastic once. Mademoiselle Aleera is merely a student; she means nothing to me."

There was doubt. Madame Giry couldn't bring herself to believe this. Something had happened, and Erik was heading down the same path he had taken with Christine. The child was confused as it was, and she would only cause him greater pain. Yet after a moment of silence, she conceded.

"Alright, I suppose..." she said. "But only for the encore, Erik. I don't want to see that any other act of the performance has your mark on it."

"That is all I require, Antoinette," Erik said, giving a small grateful bow. He usually didn't thank Giry more than was needed, and most tasks she carried out for him went without a word, but this time was much different. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must go wake my student. Good day to you..." And with that, he left the room, closing the door softly this time behind him.

Beside Madame Giry's office, there was a panel on the wall that slid to the side and gave access to every passageway Erik had had constructed for him. Looking around briefly, he slipped past the panel and closed it back over the entrance, before moving swiftly toward Aleera's dressing room. Within several minutes he arrived and slipped through the movable panel in her own room and approaching her bed.

Aleera laid half beneath the covers, one leg laying over top of them. Her nightgown had hiked up slightly, revealing most of her leg and stopping mid-thigh. Her breathing was calm, and on the frequent occasion, she would whimper upon exhaling. The second Erik saw her like this, a wave of warmth passed over him. It had been a while since he had watched a lovely young girl sleep, and it pained him that he had to wake this one. Inhaling sharply and holding his breath, he leaned down and placed his hand on her cheek, lightly caressing it, a smile forming across his face.

Aleera mumbled something in her slumber and within several seconds, to Erik's displeasure, her eyes slowly opened. The blur in her gaze cleared, and she jumped slightly as she saw her ghostly tutor standing above her, pulling his hand away from her face. As his identity registered in her mind, she let out a sigh of relief.

"I apologize for waking you earlier than had been planned," Erik whispered to her, "but I'm afraid we must begin practice."

Aleera smiled softly and sat up in bed. "You know, you could easily wake me by giving my shoulder a shake," she replied.

Erik blinked several times and chuckled. "Well then, I apolo-"

"Please don't apologize for that, _mon instructeur_. It was merely jesting." She stretched out her arms and slowly stood. "Please, don't take offense."

"Not at all. Now, _ma cher_, I will leave you to dress. You need not wear your dress, but please bring your heeled shoes to practice. In one quarter hour, meet me in the empty dance studio to the left of the open backstage entrance passageway. Should you have any problems reaching the studio, assistance shall be provided." Erik then reached for Aleera's hand, and ghosted a kiss upon her knuckles. "I shall be waiting..." He then left through the door, closing it without a sound.

Aleera stood there still, before shaking her head. "What a vague man..." she muttered, before adjusting the covers on her bed and reaching into her wardrobe. Deciding on a flowing, powder-blue long-sleeved dress that ended mid-ankle, she slipped her nightgown off and replaced it with the dress. After slipping on a pair of stockings as well, she walked to her vanity mirror and ran a comb through the short brunette mane that adorned her skull. Placing her heels on, she exited the room and walked down the hall toward her destination.

After a good ten minutes, the seemingly-simple task of arriving at the dance studio could be considered easier said than done. Aleera's feet began to ache horridly mid-trip, so now she walked barefoot upon the cold wooden floor. To make matters worse, she was lost. She was sure she had done exactly as Erik had told her, but no. She was hopelessly lost.

"I can't believe I can't follow simple directions..." Aleera muttered, walking down another corridor that was very dimly lit. "And why won't the stagehands light more gas lamps in this damned hallway?! I'll crash into something eventually..." That's when she felt a velveteen sensation against her foot.

Aleera stopped and bent down to feel the floor, her fingers moving over something light at her feet. She grasped the air toward the ground for some of this feather-like material and brought it to her face to observe, a familiar scent drifting past her nose. Rose petals. Looking forward, she could begin to see more petals that laid upon the floor in front of her, as if they formed some type of trail. "This must be the assistance Monsieur Erik mentioned earlier. How...lovely," Aleera whispered to herself as she began to follow them, as they led her all the way down the corridor to cut right through another. As she walked, the sounds of the orchestra beginning to play the musical score from _Don Quixote _could be heard getting louder and louder.

After several meters, the flower petals stopped at a door. Aleera froze a good one meter of distance from it before it, before finally walking up to the door and stepping through the threshold into the room. Inside, it was much larger than Giry's small dance studio, and brighter, too, as each window to the outside world lacked a set of curtains. Like many of the rooms inside the Opera House, the walls were deep burgundy, and along one wall was a long barre to practice stretches at. What was even better: she could hear the orchestra more clearly inside the room than she could in the hallway. No wonder Erik had chosen this room...but he was nowhere to be found. At least, in Aleera's field of vision.

The sound of the door closing could be heard behind Aleera, and she snapped her attention in that direction. The door closed completely, and Erik stood beside it, placing a key in the hold beneath the knob. She heard the lock click and her blood ran cold.

"No need to be afraid, little darling," Erik assured her in a soothing tone. "I just cannot have anyone disturbing us..." He made his way toward her.

"O-oh...right then..." Aleera's voice was soft and timid, and she backed up one step as he approached her.

Erik tilted his head to the side. "Do you still fear me, Aleera?" His voice was almost monotone, but pain laid in his blue eyes. "I promise I won't hurt you..."

"No no, I'm quite alright. I just find this sort of atmosphere...new." Aleera looked up and smiled softly. "I trust you..."

"Very good then." Erik almost beamed in relief. "Now, my little darling, we must begin to practice. You have a big night ahead of you, and I must prepare you well." He held out his hand to her. Aleera took it and the second she did, Erik pulled her swiftly to him. He looked down with admiration into her confused brown eyes, and his free hand moved to her hip. "Let's dance, Mademoiselle Aleera..."

Aleera didn't say anything. Her face was immediately overcome with a brilliant red shade at his suddenness. As if on cue, the orchestra began to play _Don Quixote_'s overture, and Erik began to lead his young partner across the floor. They would have to go over some of the basics before the real work began, and what better way to take advantage of the fierce soundtrack being played around them? Erik rather enjoyed leading this soubrette-to-be across the room. Aleera picked up the steps and tempo so easily. Her luscious brown eyes remained locked on his. And that blush upon her cheeks... _Oh, my adorable darling..._

"That's good, Aleera," Erik instructed her as they danced. "Keep your arms firm; don't let them sway along with us... Excellent."

Aleera tilted her head, as if some alien thought had entered it and she thought to request an answer to it. Finally after a few minutes, she dared to speak. "Monsieur Er-"

"Tsk, tsk... What is it, mademoiselle?"

"The music...it has stopped," Aleera replied, slowing down her steps, planning to stop. Erik blinked, and also slowed down, taking a step away from her, which only caused Aleera to laugh. "Silly man! You know a novice such as me requires continuous musical accompaniment for dancing."

_...Did she just call me "silly?" _"Well, I apologize then, _ma cher_," Erik said in a soft tone, looking down upon his student, almost disappointed. "When you have been around music as long as I have, it is difficult to cease being enveloped in it so easily."

"I know what you mean..." Aleera smiled kindly. "When I was a child, I would sneak away to sit at my father's grand piano in our home in Capri. He wouldn't let me near the piano, but I sat upon that bench and taught myself to play while he was out working. I would spend hours playing my own melodies, and I risked being caught on more than one occasion."

Erik chuckled. "So...you've also learned the art of music upon a set of keys..."

"Yes. I have studied well the art of the ivories and ebonies, as well as the tango. The art of ballet, however-" Aleera giggled. "-is not a subject that should be permitted to test me."

A sigh passed the Phantom's lips, and he shook his head. "I know it is difficult," he said. "These girls have been taught the art of dance since they have learned to crawl, that is true, but you have passion, little darling, and a spirit to achieve that surpasses any girl's here." He tried his hardest not to be impatient with the girl, or snap at her. He knew she was a hopeless cause now, but with proper training, she would be an amazing dancer in all techniques.

"Why do you have so much confidence in me, Monsieur Erik?"

"Would you rather me say that you cannot do it, and that I'm wasting my time?" Erik cocked his brow at her, his arms crossed.

"No, of course not... It's just odd that you're so confident in me."

"It is natural for a teacher to have faith in his student." Erik smiled warmly at Aleera.

"And friends have faith in each other, too. Correct?" Aleera tilted her head to the side.

Erik's heart stopped. Already, they were friends? _Friends?! _Clearly this young woman was not sane. How could she rush to make an older man her companion, and especially Erik? Maybe he shouldn't risk even being a friend to Aleera. He couldn't risk being close to anyone. He had learned to be lonely for years, to take the pain and stow it away. Hell, it was his pain that inspired his work; the entire score of _Don Juan Triumphant_ reflected his anguish, and the audience seemed to notice without a moment to deliberate it.

Then again, this young woman seemed genuine, an angel upon his barren, depressing world. Two days, and Erik was feeling as if he had never felt before. Christine Daae - he knew - feared him with all her heart. She pitied him too, but oh how she feared him. He killed. He suffered and cried for nights. He destroyed and fell into utter anguish, all so she could finally be happy. Going off to marry Raoul, _le monsieur de vicomte_, just seemed to end his hopes of ever finding compassion in another again. But this girl... She had captured his affection and admiration. Unbeknownst to her, Erik's heart was hanging by a thread, and she had it wrapped around her delicate finger.

"Well, am I correct?" Aleera's soft, curious voice brought Erik out of his daydreaming.

"Oh...of course, my little darling," he replied, clearing his throat.

"...Monsieur Erik?"

"Yes?"

"...Why do you call me 'little darling' so much? Is it out of habit for what you called another, or did you create a petname for me?"

Erik's hands clenched painfully into tight fists. "Another"... Christine Daae.

"N-no...it's neither." The Phantom's gaze met the ground. "Christine was different from you. She was my Angel of Music...and I was hers. I just call you my 'little darling' because you're young and one of the most compassionate people I've ever met."

Still frames of the previous night flashed across Aleera's mind. She sighed softly. "W-well...I was just doing what all others should do. It's what you deserve."

Oh, how Erik's broken heart began to ache. How could she show such care for this man? This monster? He wondered what true intentions lurked within her soul. The music from the theater, however, broke him out of yet another trance. It was his new arrangement being played, the one he had left to be practiced for the encore. His lips curled up into a grin, but some inaudible sound - at least inaudible to Aleera - caused him to wince. That trombone player...still out of tune.

"What is that?" Aleera asked. "I don't remember that from _Don Quixote_."

The orchestra had stopped. Erik hoped to tune that mediocre musician's hunk of brass. He turned to Aleera and his grin fell into a gentle smile once more. "We shall be performing the encore for our solo, Mademoiselle. So, to prepare, I had organized a piece that would be perfect for it."

_Thank God; only one number... _"Oh, I see. Well, I-"

It was too late to say another word. The orchestra sounded up again and Erik, not missing a beat, had pulled his student back against him, leading her in the tango once again. The performance was tonight, and Erik planned to give the more "cultured" side of Parisian society a show they would not soon forget.


	7. Maybe

**Wahhhhhh! Why does nobody like to comment on this...? Does no one appreciate my mushy, romantic typed parlance?! GAHHHH! Anyways, here ya go: the seventh chapter. With a fanservice-ish twist at the end. **

Chapter Seven: Maybe

The red velvet curtain had come down upon the stage as the final arias of _Don Quixote_ concluded and were rewarded with tremendous applause. Aleera only watched from backstage, admiring how her fellow dancers graced that stage with their nimble moves and seraphine tongues. Her envy was that of a pauper watching as society's elite passed him on the street: bitter, yet in a way, respectful. Right next to Aleera was Erik, dressed in the dark costume and black mask that he had worn at their private rehearsal. His hand rested on her shoulder, rubbing softly so as to comfort her.

That's when the applause didn't cease. Aleera's brown eyes went wide in shock and fear, and her gaze immediately averted to Erik. He only looked back down at her, excitement in his own cobalt orbs. This was it; their solo encore. Paris begged for it, and now, they had no choice but to satiate their hunger.

"Oh god, I don't think I'm ready," Aleera whimpered to her instructor in a panic, fidgeting with a strand of her hair, twirling it around her index finger spastically.

"My little darling, I have prepared you as much as you needed," Erik countered with a frown. "You are my pupil. I have my confidence in you, and you have the talent to make your fellow dancers go wild. Please don't let my faith in you be in vain..." His hand rested on her own jittery one, soothing it with his touch alone.

It was too late. The orchestra, though hesitantly, began their final number: the encore. The musicians had each found new sheet music on their stands, with a letter written to each section, eached sighed O.G. Erik had prepared well, and made sure that third trombone player got a good taste of how tone-deaf he was when tuning his instrument.

Aleera took a deep breath, and looked confidently up at Erik, before grabbing his hand and walking with him onstage, just as the curtain began to open. Erik was truly taken aback, but his lips instantly transformed into a smirk. Pulling Aleera's hips tight against his, one hand going to her waist and the other to take her own, he began to lead her perfectly across the stage, stepping in rhythm with the music.

Aleera's face was almost void of emotion as she danced with the Phantom to the fiery dance of the tango, but her body well made up for what her face could not express on its own. Her eyes did stray once toward the audience, to see what Paris's most cultured thought of her mediocre skills. Yet, they were forced back toward Erik's, as he dipped her down unexpectedly as a warning. Aleera could've laughed, but kept a solid expression, knowing that now she had to remain focused on her partner.

Backstage, one of the youngest chorus girls, little Meg Giry, beckoned the other dancers to come and observe Aleera. They did without hesitation, as well as Antoinette Giry, and observed with impressed eyes as this young novice was being led seductively to tango music of the Phantom's own design, but the Phantom himself.

"Mademoiselle Aleera...she's been taking lessons from him, hasn't she?" asked one of the older ballerinas, Celeste.

"She has to be," replied Nanette, a chorus girl. "Little Aleera couldn't have become so skilled in such a short time unless the Phantom himself were teaching her. He must be beating the lessons into her head after seeing her 'skills' on the stage at rehearsal. Madame Giry probably couldn't achieve this alone..." She sighed with pity. "The poor girl."

"How is she not scared?" Meg whispered to herself, but a stuck-up ballerina by the name of Margot heard her and instantly jumped into the conversation

"He's probably seducing her in some way, and she's falling for every trick he uses. How could she not be afraid of that freak of nature, the Opera Gho-"

"Margot Guinevierre, you will watch your tongue this minute!" Madame Giry snapped, forcing the girl to turn and look at her in the eyes, her own grayish-brown burning in anger. She then turned both their attentions back to Aleera and Erik, and a smile secretly crept onto Giry's face. _Well done Erik. You'll turn this girl into another star..._

_Please, don't hurt yourself... You know what would happen if she were to lead you astray..._

Sooner than expected, the music had ended, its last few notes in powerful staccato form, the two dancers freezing with Aleera being dipped once again, Erik gazing into her eyes. For a moment, the audience remained silent. This man in the black mask...he looked _incredibly _familiar. But from where? Nevermind that. After that moment of sickening silence, the audience stood and roared out in applause. It was enough to make Aleera's legs give out beneath her, but she straightened her body up once again. She stood forward with her hand in Erik's, bowing happily once to the right side of the theater, then to the left, then performing her own expression of gratitude, blowing a kiss to the audience members in each box. Even to box 5, which Erik did not mind being occupied for the first time in many years.

Meanwhile, up in a certain box before stage left, two figures gawked at what had just occurred. To the managers Moncharmin and Richard, the masked figure couldn't have been more familiar if you were to tear his mask from his demonic face. It was the Opera Ghost, the Phantom of the Opera. How in God's name did he make it onto the stage? And only to be responded to with a thunder of applause. This was an absolute outrage.

"Firmin..." Moncharmin turned to his business partner, a mix of emotion in his age-faded eyes. "Do you suppose...?"

"That this was Mme. Giry's doing?" Richard seemed to be right on the same level. "There's not a solitary doubt in my mind." The manager was sitting there, dark anger in his eyes.

"We'll have to say something about this..." The two men stood just before the fall of the curtain, anxious to find Antoinette and have a word with her.

Back onstage, the curtain fell before the two performers, and now concealed, the other performers walked out with an applause of their very own. Aleera couldn't help but turn a bright shade of crimson. Erik could see it, too, and found it simply adorable. However, he began to find this crowd too bothersome raher fast, and took Aleera's hand, leading her swiftly off the stage, passing Madame Giry, who only looked over her shoulder, worry in her eyes.

Soon, the two were back in Aleera's dressing room, and Erik wasted no time in taking Aleera up in his arms, spinning her around happily. "My dear, you were passion itself," he said happily, setting his pupil back down on solid ground.

"Thank you, Monsieur Erik," Aleera laughed. "You were as well. I've never felt so passionate doing anything before..." The brunette was so thrilled about the events from that night, she didn't even notice that Erik's arms were still around her.

"I told you, _ma cher_. You had absolutely nothing to worry about." For the first time in a long time, the Phantom's eyes began to sparkle with pure emotion of the most wonderful sort. "My confidence wasn't all for naught after all..."

Aleera smiled, her eyes involuntarily moving to her feet before returning back to Erik's. A typical young girl. Slowly pulling from Erik's arms, she moved toward her red velvet chair in the corner of her dressing room and sat down. "Monsieur Erik...you can remove your mask. You don't have to wear it in my presence."

Erik's eyes almost widened. Yet again, she had invited the removal of his mask, instead of yanking it from his face. It almost made him want to cry out in joy. Instead, he dropped to his knees before Aleera, a smile on his face.

"You remove it..."

Aleera blinked a few times in surprise. "W-what...?" She knew what he had said, but it seemed as if her mind refused to translate the words into something simple enough for her to comprehend.

Erik smiled at her timidness and reached for her soft, small hand, placing it on the mask but right at the edge of it. "Remove it for me, my little darling..."

With a small nod, Aleera's fingers curled around the edge of the black leather mask and cringed slightly as she pulled it from his face, her hand shaking. The mask was then placed to rest in her lap, and her eyes scanned Erik's face. Not one drop of fear laid in her liquid gaze, but tears began to form in their place.

Erik's head tilted to the side in confusion, moving closer to her. "Aleera...what is wrong?" He asked in a whisper, his thumb moving up to wipe away the wet trails on her soft cheek.

"I don't understand..." Aleera whispered back, sniffling slightly. "How could anyone label you as a monster? You have shown me such bountiful kindness, trained me to become something great in only two days...something I could be proud of."

It seemed to be this that brought her back to that lonesome, colorless void of a room in the funeral home, where she had sat with other relatives from her home back in Italy, to listen to the last will and testament of Salvatore and Gianna Lorenti. Her parents. _Her _section.

_To my daughter, little Mademoiselle Aleera. My dear, you are the light of the world. Whether this is to be read to you as a child, or when you have a family of your own, I am sure that you will continue to strive for greatness. I do wish, however, that you could see yourself as something...more. It is true, I haven't been present too often at our homes, both in Capri and here in Paris, but I have heard what your maids and attendants have said about you. My dear, plans have been arranged including your intentions for you to become something great...something that you can be proud of..._

Aleera's eyes closed, and the tears continued to fall. Erik looked at this girl with the utmost sympathy, and leaning in with a sharp inhale, he ghosted his lips over her tears, brushing them away. Erik despised pity more than anything, including the people that had made his life a living hell, but something about this girl had convinced him that her feelings for his fate involved more than just pity. "Aleera..." He breathed out her name softly as if it were a prayer.

"Monsieur Erik...?" Aleera looked upon the man before her, her eyes now full of confusion. The sounds of her heartbeat and labored breath became well audible to them both.

"Erik...just Erik..." He moved closer to her, and was absolutely shocked when she didn't retreat back. "Aleera...my little darling..." One hand now rested against Aleera's cheek, caressing it gingerly with his musical fingers.

Inches apart...

Erik seemed to halt in his tracks, scared of what he wanted to accomplish, but his scarred, bruised heart could've stopped its beat right then and there, as Aleera's warm lips closed in on his. Finally joining them together in a wave of slow, heated hope.


	8. No Longer A Monster

**MEW~! Finally the story gets good. It's almost impossible to type in the situation I'm in: I'm in an apartment complex in Wildwood Crest for a week, my brother - whom I share a room with - keeps playing National Treasure 2 on our TV, and the interwebz service here is all but clear and perfect. Meh, oh well. Thank god, I've saved the PMs I've had with my roleplaying friend. COPYPASTAEDITZORZ. (And a warning to my "aberrant" friend: this is where it gets juicy. Caution.) Oh, and for those of you are anti-rushed-romance, go suck on a clam...**

Chapter Eight: No Longer A Monster

Erik's eyes widened in utter shock, and his hands now began to tremble. Aleera's eyes were closed, cheeks dyed a rich scarlet, and she was _kissing _him! She could feel his lips, as deathly cold as they were, and didn't even flinch. But as soon as it had begun, it ended as well. Aleera's lips detached themselves from his own, though the feeling still lingered. Her eyes batted open and gazed at Erik, who returned it with his own, his blue eyes displaying his longing and shock.

"I...I'm sorry..." she said, nervously sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. "I don't know what came over me..."

Of course. It was a pity kiss. Another Christine pity kiss, but from a different set of lips. Erik could have vomited from those memories right then and there. Instead, he asked his childish manipulator one simple question: "Why?"

"Why...what?" Aleera seemed positively clueless. "Oh, my kiss?"

Erik narrowed his eyes at her in response, holding his breath. Watching, waiting for her sweet lips to produce either a song he had so longed to hear from another, or the nightmarish words that would force his heart into another vice for the life to be squeezed clean out.

"I...wanted to," she finally sighed out, the blush worsening. "I really...I jus- I wanted to...Did I upset you...?" She truly was a sight to behold. Not a single lie hid dormant in her expression. Erik could only see sincerity in this young woman, and for a minute longer, he would throw propriety completely to the wind. His eyes closed again as he pressed his lips to hers once more, his face flushed red with desire, throwing Aleera off completely. He wound his fingers into her hair, clutching Aleera's face against his, her own hand remaining stationary against the abhorrid side of his face. Her fingertips soon began to caress his marred skin, and her tongue began to slip along the crevace of his lips.

Erik shivered at the feel of her soft fingers against his cheek and her tongue at the ready, yet responded by parting his lips for her, feeling her tongue delve into his mouth. Several moans began to escape his throat as Aleera seemed to find every sensitive spot within the warm cavern of his mouth. His own tongue soon rose to dance with hers, savoring her taste as if it were a drop of the finest wine. She was sweet and hot, and he felt as if he could melt into her. He didn't want to stop; Aleera had heard his story, seen the true monstrosity of the Phantom, and still did not think any less of him. She actually cared for him, and here she was: showing him the affection he had craved for so long. The love neither his mother, nor Luciana, nor Christine could return.

Within another minute, it became apparent that the two were in need of air, and Aleera broke the kiss, gasping softly as the warmth he had poured into her began to drain. She then felt herself wrapped up in Erik's longing arms, and returned the gesture, holding him to her.

"Thank you, Aleera," Erik whispered into her ear. "I...I adore you. It's only been three days...my god, I can't believe what an angel you are..."

Aleera only gace a cheery laugh and pulled herself from his grasp just enough to look up at his face. She could no longer see the deformity. Now, she could only see her teacher. Her friend. Her companion whom she had become quite fond of in quite a short amount of time.

Aleera truly didn't know how to respond. It seemed as if her logic had vanished and her emotions now began to speak for her. "Erik..." she whispered back, the look in the Opera Ghost's emotional blue-gray eyes making her want to swoon, "I've heard so much about you... I dreamt of meeting you for years...and now-" She laughed cheerfully. "-here I am. Here _we _are. It's funny; my first kiss was stolen by the Phantom of the Opera."

Her first kiss? The poor little angel had never experienced affection of the romantic sort as well. Surely, it was understandable due to her age, but with her beauty, it didn't seem possible that she had always lacked a beau of her own. "Stolen? I do apologize then," Erik whispered, his mouth twisting into a coy little grin. "Still, how do you not fear me?" He began to cover her face in tiny kisses.

Aleera giggled as he showered her cheeks with his chaste kisses, remaining red in the face. "Well, you don't seem like you'd harm me," she said. "And the only time you've gotten irritated with me is because of my lack of dancing expertise. But, you're a very charming, well-spoken, intelligent man." _And you might have just stolen my heart._ "What valid reason is there to be afraid?"

Erik sat there silent for a moment. She truly was naive. Didn't know what she was facing or getting herself into. Sighing, he took her shoulders and looked her straight in the eyes. "I have killed people, Aleera. For my own protection and anonymity, but I have still killed." He spoke slowly, letting the words sink in. "As for your dancing, you have passion the other girls lack. I can help you." Erik kissed up her arm, making Aleera shiver. "After all, seduction is the art of the Phantom."

"Erik, trust me, I heard every detail of your story, and I know about the murders that occurred here when Christine still sang. But I can assure you, I will never be afraid of you, unless my life is in danger."

"I have promised you, my dear: your life will never be in danger as long as I'm around. I just cannot understand the compassion you feel toward me." Erik clutched her to him, his whole body buzzing with adoration.

Aleera blinked a few times, but didn't embrace him back. "Do you...not believe me...?" she asked softly. _Of course, he doesn't believe you, stupid girl. His heart has been toyed with too much for too long to even attempt to feel the same way again. _Ridding herself of all doubt, she began to speak again before Erik could respond. "I don't know how to describe it, Erik, but..." She reached for his hand and pressed it against her collarbone. "Can you feel how fast my heart is pounding? That kiss was one of a more friendly gesture...but...but the second our lips touched, something sparked inside of me. I don't know what it is..."

Erik could surely tell that Aleera was not lying. Her heart was pounding almost tenfold of what its usual beat should be. He felt the rise and fall of her breasts and groaned slightly. He could tell that this wasn't a kiss out of pity. She felt compassion toward him, but was afraid of it. Out of pure urgency, Erik didn't see any other way to bring out more of her than to pull her back and crush her lips in a fiery kiss, almost shocking her with his ferocity. He could feel her arms sheepishly wrap around his neck, but before she had a chance to respond, he pulled away swiftly and crossed to the other side of the room. Retreating. Turning to the wall, with his hands behind his back, he spoke quietly. "I apologize for my eagerness, Aleera."

Aleera smiled and adjusted herself before crossing the room as well, resting one hand on his shoulder. "I like your eagerness, Mons- er, Erik," she said softly, a gentle giggle piping up in her throat. "You merely surprised me."

Erik pulled her into an embrace. "I am sorry," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I am not accustomed to relationships... that was my first kiss not given in pity."

Aleera smiled and pushed up on her tiptoes, kissing his cheek softly. "How do you think I feel, Erik?" she asked him. "I know I'm just a young girl, but that doesn't change the fact that we're both not used to actual affection. From anyone..."

"_Ma cher, w_hy are you not used to affection? You are beautiful woman, Aleera." Erik stroked her hair and kissed her forehead once again.

"Just like you, I grew up without any parental love. My parents were always overly involved in their work, and I never had any siblings or friends to play with. And..." She blushed as he kissed her forehead. "...I've just never gotten the opportunity to really see the world and meet new people. But you, you've been all over Europe, and some of the Middle East. You've been places I've dreamt of exploring since I was a little girl..." She shook her head a bit and laughed. "That might be why some men might not find me appealing; I have the mindset of a child."

Erik chuckled and shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous," he said warmly. "It is precisely your childlike wonder and acceptance that makes you alluring to me... But, would you like to see the world?"

Aleera simply nodded. "Yes, of course. I've always wanted to find more. To see and do more..."

"I promise you, my love, that one day, we shall travel the world together, just you and I. We shall travel to lands where no single person shall see me as a monster."

Erik's words could've stopped Aleera's little heart from beating. She looked up into his eyes, and incredulous look on her face. "Wha-...you'll really take me to explore the world?" she asked. "Erik...I don't know what to say..." It seemed that that one kiss she had bestowed on him had sent Erik into a spiral of absolute paradise. Just thinking of the joy she had brought him caused a smile to form on her lips.

"Absolutely. I love music, but I have no true ties here. I am free to go as I please, and surely the Opera House staff might be relieved to be rid of me. I just have had no reason to leave...until now." He grinned down at her, holding her chin, and placing a soft kiss upon her lips before Aleera could think of anything to say.

Aleera's smile seemed to be plastered on her rosy lips as she kissed him and placed her hand against his upper chest. When she finally found the reason to speak, she gave him a small push. "Erik...does it seem like we're moving too fast...?" she asked softly. Her conscience only drew her to what was right, what was proper, but the look in her eyes convinced Erik that she didn't want to slow down.

"You see, that is for you to judge Aleera, for I would not know of such things, now would I?" Erik's tone was playful, but there was a hint of biting hurt in his eyes. He stood to his full height and replaced his mask, leaning against the wall of the dressing room.

"Neither would I, Erik..." Aleera frowned slightly when he placed his mask back on. She didn't care about his face. He'd probably be more comfortable with the white leather off his sensitive skin anyway. "You know, when you're with me, you don't have to wear that mask..."

Erik blinked a few times in surprise, chuckling. "Thank you, little darling," he said happily, though he left the mask on. "Still, unlike me, you have grown up in the company of people and though you may not have lived every moment yourself as far as romance or affection...you have certainly heard of them." He tapped Aleera's nose affectionately and made her flinch, kissing her cheek

"Well, that is true. I have heard - and read - of the ways of romance and simple affection...I've just never gotten the opportunity to express it." A small blush crept over her cheeks again, and with a light giggle rising in her throat, she tapped his nose back.

_She's just like a child. That purity and compassion...I adore it. _"Such a pity that you haven't, little darling, for any who would wish to be in your company would surely adore you."

Aleera was beaming from the simple things Erik told her. This man, who had for many years captivated her imagination, was now doing the same to her heart. She felt light-headed, almost as if his affection were sending her into a trance. "What can I say? Some wait lifetimes to find someone who would be the recipient of their care and love..."

_Isn't _that _the truth... _"Aleera, I have walked upon this earth for forty years without knowing true affection. My last romance nearly consumed my soul, but this-dare I say- blooming one, feeds it." Erik pulled Aleera into a warm hug, caressing her hair softly, and pressing careful kisses to her full lips.

A romance? They had something like that? Aleera wrapped her thin arms about him, pressing back into each kiss. Each time Erik would pull away, it was as if a sinking feeling pulled her heart into her stomach, which would only be relieved by another kiss. "Erik..." She sighed his name, licking her lips when he finally pulled away to listen to her. "...I never could've dreamed this could become the start of a romance. My childhood mission was to meet you and be a friend to you...then you became a teacher...then a guardian...and now..." She laughed softly, shaking her head, the feathery brown locks of hair upon her head swaying as she did so. "I don't know if this is strange...or wrong, and if it's either one of those, I don't care."

"Just hearing that, little darling...you might have the ability to mend my heart." Erik kissed her passionately, his strong hand upon the small of her back. Cradling Aleera to him and whirling her around the room in a slow waltz, he leaned his head into her collarbone as she giggled in that trademark childish laugh of hers.. She had a soft flowery scent about her, and it filled his senses with absolute joy.

"I wish I could mend it completely, so that it could be as if you never once grieved in your life..." Aleera whispered. She let her small, pale hand trail through his dark hair.

"A pleasant fantasy, Aleera, but my heart bears so many scars, it is a wonder it still beats as it does. I adore you, my dear, in a way that I cannot explain even to myself. This is what matters. The here, the now. The past cannot change, but the future is ours to build." Erik pulled Aleera closer to him, gazing into her beautiful, dark eyes. He could not believe the insurmountable charm this woman held for him, and for once in his life, Erik did not beg for or take control as the richness of love swallowed his mind and soul. All Erik could sense or know was Aleera. "I offer you my heart, in the hopes that you won't break it..."

_His heart... Erik, do I really have your heart? _Aleera thought, asking him the many questions and saying the many things she desired to utter, without a single part of her lips. _I'm a child. A stupid one at that. Can you really trust me with something of yours that is so fragile? I do not wish to break it, but I feel as if my ignorant little self could damage it beyond repair. Don't trust me with your heart, please..._

"I promise you, Erik, I won't hurt you." _Curses. Now you have gone off the deep end._

"That is all I ask, little darling," Erik whispered with a smile. But as soon as his smile had appeared, it vanished, and his body pulled slowly from Aleera's. "I should leave you now. To sleep. I am sure these past few days have been hard on you, and you must be exhausted from tonight's performance."

It was as if the moment Erik uttered these words, a yawn began to blossom in Aleera's mouth, covering it quickly to dull its appearance. "I suppose..." was all she had to say.

"Then, _bonne nuit_, my angel..." Erik reached for her hand and pulled it to his lips, which lightly pressed against her knuckles. "My Aleera..." And with an elegant bow of farewell and a swirl of his cape, the Phantom left, closing the door silently behind him.

Three...

Two...

One. Aleera began to feel weak in the knees, and soon dropped to the floor upon them, her costume crinkling beneath her weight. She buried her face in her small hands and began to weep. Her body seemed to tremble as it never had before, and the saddest sobs rose in her burning throat. Aleera didn't know why exactly she was crying, if Erik giving himself to her, body and soul, was a good or bad thing, but she still sat there, melancholy, alone, and frightened.

_Of course, you know what you've gotten yourself into, right, Aleera? You are walking on the thinnest ice, having feelings for Erik. He'll kill you. The man can't bear to stand another heartbreak. If you do so much as cause him a moment to weep, he will take the time to track you down to the ends of the earth and _kill _you. You are only eighteen, and yet you have just sacrificed everything you have to this man. And one who captures your first kiss three days after meeting him. He is a no-good, murderous, seductive, manipulative..._

_God, he's perfect._

Aleera leaned back against the edge of the chair positioned behind her, beginning to feel her heart all aflutter once again. When he kissed her. _He's perfect. Every part of him. Such beautiful, sad eyes. Such an intoxicating smile. I do not care about his face at all. It doesn't matter to me._

Aleera walked to her armoir where her nightgown was waiting for her, casually drooped over the top arched corner. Sighing in relief, her body feeling much lighter, she pulled it down and set it upon her bed before taking great care to remove her costume. Loosening the corset ribbons and sliding the dress from her body until she stood only in a white chemise and a pair of frilly bloomers. She neatly draped the costume over the red velvet chair, and slid on the nightgown before blowing out the flame on her small gas lamp and climbing into bed.

That night, the young brunette's dreams were filled with images of the most horrid sort. Her peers, laughing at her. Mocking her lack of skill, lack of intelligence. She weeps and flees to the rooftop via a set of almost never-ending stairs, a light snow having just begun to fall. She drops to her knees and the tears don't even begin to diminish. That is when she feels a strong yet gently hand grasp hers, pulling her onto her feet before she is enveloped in a wave of darkness. Yet, she can feel everything. Each stroke of fingers through her hair and against the small of her back. Each note of a hummed lullaby being sung for her.

_"Shhh...Aleera...my little darling, please do not cry. You don't wish to break my heart, do you? Smile for me. Laugh for me, let me know you are calm."_

She knew that voice. It was Erik. The Phantom. The man who captivated her, inspired her...cared for her.

_I love you..._

**BAHAHAHAHAHAHA! YUSH! Finally, some lovey-dovey stuff. Oh, and people, I just painted my own POTO t-shirt. Ten times better than what you can get at the Broadway performance. Curse you, Majestic Theatre, and your unbearable prices! And ohnoes...Howard McGillin's out. No more Howie-Phan...aw... He was my first. Er, anyway, PLEASE comment! I only gots 3 comments, and two of them are from friends. GRAHHHHH! Onegaiiiiiiiiiii~?**


	9. A Glimpse of Heaven

**Haha, I'm so proud of my last chapter. But I can guarantee you all, this story will get better. And much juicier. Plus, I know two certain people I can't keep waiting for very long. Unfortunately, Meggie...this is where it gets awkward. So again, beware. From here on out, actually, there will be quite a few juicy parts. Oh, and I almost forgot: I do have several references from Leroux's original work within my own. So if you need any information regarding confusing sections, simply ask or look them up yourself. After all, you found out how to get on the internet by yourself anyway, right? Okay, that's enough! Without further delay, I present to you...**

Chapter Nine: A Glimpse of Heaven

That night, Erik couldn't sleep a moment. In fact, he didn't even attempt to. Even his journey back to the lair was difficult. His vision was blurred, head spinning in a chaotic whirlwind. He could only think of one thing. More specifically, one person. His _angel_.

_Aleera..._

Pulling off his mask, Erik placed it down at his organ before sitting upon the bench in front of its keyboard. His fingers positioned themselves over the keys, ready to play. Yet this was merely out of instinct. These days, he had only sat before the organ to either work on his opera, or let his anger and misery out in a way that didn't involve destruction. Right now, he couldn't bring himself to play. His fingers longed to stray from the cold ivory, to caress the blushing cheeks of his little darling. He wanted to return to the room, to completely ignore the repercussions of his desire and lay beside Aleera. Just wanting nothing more than to feel her warmth once again against his still walking corpse.

"Erik, you idiot..." he grumbled to himself. "You need to get sleep. You could always see her tomorrow... The ballerinas will be free fro- goddammit!" Erik's elbows rested on the keys, a loud cacophony of notes echoing through tunnels of his personal heaven. The sound made him grit his teeth.

"She doesn't want to see me..." His voice was now soft, almost a whimper of sadness. "I'm a monster. And what if she does care for me? ...I'll only hurt her. I cannot believe I made the promise to protect her."

With a sigh, Erik rose from the organ and walked up a small set of stone steps to his sleeping quarters. Stopping in the doorway, his eyes wandered back and forth. One one side was his bed, covered by a shimmering, black silk damask. On the other side was his coffin. Holding his breath, he walked up to the coffin and knelt beside it, trembling fingers trailing over its wooden frame. He could recall two nights before Aleera had first arrived at the opera house, when he was well-prepared to simply lay his miserable self into this container of the dead and enter into a never-ending sleep. A tear dropped from each eye, and Erik's hand pressed against his chest. His fingertips began to apply pressure, as a clueless child would treat a wound to attempt to rid himself of the sting, and a gasp escaped his throat. Stumbling up, he fell back against his bed, as the pain magically seemed to vanish.

"I can't keep having these episodes..." He propped himself up on a small stack of ornate pillows, two fingers of his right hand massaging his temples. "I never should have appeared to that child in the first place. She's young and does not know what affection is, let alone love. And she could never find it with me. Who would?"

Erik simply laid on his bed, his eyes closed. He didn't feel like sleeping, but in a frustrated state attempted time and time again to rid Aleera Lorenti from his mind. _She'll find a young man who will adore her and sweep her off her feet. She will move on. I won't; I am destined to die here in this room, alone. But, dear God in heaven, I want nothing more than to be there to make Aleera smile. Though not as a companion or lover, I want to make her happy, to see those beautiful, rosy cheeks of hers. To see her dark eyes light up._

_I want to love her..._

Now a new feeling began to blossom in Erik's heart. It wasn't pain this time. It was that sickening sensation that bubbled within him the moment he first saw little Christine Daae appear in the small prayer room within the opera house. Something about Aleera just felt right. This young woman definitely could have the power to cleanse his heart of guilt and heartache of years past. Just hearing her laugh made Erik's body ache with a playful fire. Her sugar-laced voice, her flowery chestnut hair. Every inch was flawless.

The Opera Ghost finally rose from the bed and returned to the organ. _Now _he felt like playing. Reaching into a stack of sheet music he kept beside the organ, he pulled out one of his favorite pieces: the overture to _Faust._ He would play until the sun had rested in the sky for a few hours, then go and fetch Aleera, and take her into the depths of the cellars beneath the opera house.

Erik cringed. _No...not yet_, he thought. _I shall take her away to my kingdom when she desires to see it. Not a moment sooner..._

_

* * *

_

Unbeknownst to Erik, it seemed that Aleera had already awoken from a rather perplexing sleep, and rushed to get dressed. Tightening the black ribbons on the corset of her dress, Aleera let in a soft gasp, and finally sat down on the edge of her bed. After the previous night, she needed at least a day to sort things out on her own.

She didn't understand what it was about Erik that made her feel empty yet whole all at once. In his kiss, she could feel all of his pain and desire pulsing from him into her. Perhaps he only needed her to fill the void that Christine and his mother refused to fill. Aleera was terrified of doing so, but at the same time, she felt compelled to rid him of all that pain.

With a sigh Aleera stood from her bed and walked over to her vanity mirror, a small stack of parchment resting on the left-hand corner. Pulling away a blank sheet and fetching a pen, she began to write. It was quite obvious that her beloved Phantom would seek her out the moment he was sure of her rising, and she needed to vanish from him.

_Erik,_

_I apologize, but I have stepped out of the opera house for a few hours. There is simply too much I need to think about, especially about last night. I am truly sorry._

_-Aleera._

_P.S. Meet me on the rooftop tonight at 9 o'clock sharp. By then, I will have collected my thoughts._

Folding it neatly, Aleera then placed the note on her pillow and reached for her shawl. It was slightly brisk outside, warmer than it usually was in the winter months, so she didn't require too much added warmth. After throwing the shawl about her, the brunette then scurried out of her room, heading for the exit.

"I'm so sorry, Erik..." she muttered to herself, just as a whisper of cold caressed her face. She proceeded carefully down the Opera's front steps. "I need time..."

* * *

"Dammit...god_dammit_!"

A large candelabra was pushed over, landing upon the cellar ground with an obnoxious clang. It was about three hours after Aleera had left, and Erik had made his way through a trapdoor in the corner into her room, almost stunned that she wasn't present. It was rather surprising; what chorus girl or ballerina would throw away the opportunity at a few extra hours of sleep?

Then he saw the note. Another oddity. Wasn't he the one to leave notes for people? Rolling his eyes, he let them skim over his little darling's bubbly script and felt his heart sink to the floor. Crumpling the note up with a gloved hand, Erik quickly retreated into the cellars to his house in the cellars without a sound, crossing the Rue Scribe with his legs alone - he would fetch the gondola later - before collapsing at his organ. Just as the tears began to fall, each one burning like acid into his cheeks.

He pushed his hand through his hair, fingers trembling slightly. "I frightened her away..." he told himself in a cold whisper. "She doesn't know much about her emotions yet, and I pushed her past her barrier. I was a fool for letting her kiss me."

The scent of something burning caught itself in Erik's nostrils and he turned toward the fallen candelabra. It seemed to have caught fire on a small stack of sheet music piled lazily upon the floor. Cursing to himself, Erik decided simply to punish himself, and allow his work to perish in the flames. They would burn out soon anyhow; the ground was of damp stone and wouldn't allow for more destruction.

"I have to make it up to her tonight," he continued, as if talking to some imaginary being attempting to lead him in the right direction. "I have to know if she does care for me. All that compassion from her last night, and now we're both in doubt. It's as if she believes I drugged her, or something similar." Drugging. That wasn't a path he would go down again.

He brought himself back to the times when another young girl had first begun to find terror in his presence. Though it filled him with grief, Erik would not allow himself to cause his young soubrette to run from him, her Angel of Music, for he was much to annoyed by cowering in those days. He was certain that, in time, Christine would begin to love him. Though, some reassurance wouldn't harm either. He would often fetch a pot of tea from the Populaire's kitchen and provide her with a cupful to calm her nerves, but not before slipping in a small pinch of deep green powder. This evergreen-tree-tinted powder had helped Erik mentally lose connection with the outside world, as well as relax his heart, and he made sure to stock up on plenty of it. It almost reminded him of the opium he had taken over the years he lived in Persia. By taking this concoction, Christine's mind was all for Erik to mold to his liking, though after a few uses, she seemed to respond to him without any outside interference.

"Christine...my angel." Erik clenched his teeth, his fist aching to pound into the keys of the organ, to find some way to vent. "No. She went off with he beloved _monsieur le vicomte_, Raoul. Aleera is the one I care about now. No one else..."

Suddenly, the faint sound of sloshing could be heard through the Rue Scribe. Erik picked his head up, not finding the energy or drive to get up and discover who it was that had found his lair. He did release a sigh of relief, though, as he heard the familiar sounds of a female's soft cursing and worn heeled shoes lightly clacking on the stone floor.

"Antoinette, what are you doing here?" Erik inquired softly, as if the woman in question were sitting beside him.

Upon questioning, Madame Giry entered Erik's "study" and let out a frustrated sigh. "I beg your pardon for disturbi-"

Erik put his hand up, silencing her. "It is quite alright, Antoinette." He gazed down at her dress, feeling the grace of a smirk across his lips for the first time that day. "I hope you were aware that you could have taken the boat to my home. After all, you had to begin from the same point anyhow."

Antoinette rolled her eyes at her friend. "I believe I can move faster on foot, even through water," she countered. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a rather familiar, crumpled-up piece of parchment, which had instead been flattened out and folded once again. "Explain this."

Erik sat there in silence for a moment, eying the note as if he had never seen it before in his life, before letting out a sigh. On the inside, his heart was pounding almost audibly; he'd have to lie to Giry, to lighten the seriousness of the previous night's events. "After the performance, I took Mademoiselle Aleera aside and asked if she would prefer to take some dance lessons with me, as well as vocal," he finally replied, his tenor voice solid as rock. "She was a bit overwhelmed by my excitement, and I had to excuse myself from her room for the night. Other than that, I am unaware as to why she feels she has anything to ponder over."

"I see..." Giry pulled the note apart and let her eyes scan over the writing, before placing the note back in her pocket. "Erik, your performance last night put Richard and Moncharmin in another rage, and after your stunt on the night of _Don Juan_, I was through with defending you any longer. I will not allow your frivolity and lack of good judgment to ruin me. And now this...you better not-"

A growl. "Madame Antoinette Giry, I can assure you that I want nothing to do with the girl other than to be her teacher. If I had been affectionate and _frivolous_ enough while privately instructing Aleera, do you think she would have mastered the tango as quickly as she had? I, for one, highly doubt it." Erik leaned lazily over his organ, fingers flipping nonchalantly through written music resting upon its stand. "The majority of younger women concentrate more on their emotions than commitments and serious matters of the world around them. Aleera is no different."

Madame Giry conceded. No matter how much she would push the issue, she would never get the God's honest truth from her friend. And even if she decided to trust him, it would easily be in vain. Erik was infamous for acting on impulse without thinking, just as a child would. He didn't concentrate on the possible consequences, but on what he could acquire. But for Madame Giry, Erik's interaction with Aleera would never go overlooked on her account. "So...what will you do at nine tonight?"

Erik flinched but sat there in silence. "Well, naturally, I will go and talk with her. Find out if she truly wishes for another tutor. And if she wishes me gone, I can guarantee that neither you, nor Aleera, nor either of the managers or any of the cast and crew of the Populaire, will ever hear of me again." Erik did have several untouched barrels of gunpowder left. After rigging up the barrels and setting them ablaze, it would be a very simple task to rid the Opera of the fifth cellar, where his lair was located. Fortunately for those above, it would cause only a brief tremor, but no overall damage to the theater itself. "The end of the Opera Ghost...I can just hear the Parisians gossiping about it. 'Real proof as to the death of the Phantom. Discovered corpse proven to be fake.' Would that make you feel better about trusting me, Antoinette?"

"Not in that morbid sort of light, Erik," Madame Giry answered, "but if you _are _even considering what I still know could happen, be prepared." She turned her back and began to walk off, heading on her journey back toward the surface world. "Your last resort may hit you earlier than you intend it to..."

Erik waited until he could no longer hear Madame Giry traveling through the water, before burying his face in his hands. Fingers grasping the edge of the mask, he removed it, staring down at the white leather. "How on earth could she even bear to see my face...?" he asked himself, turning the mask over several times in his hand. His free hand reached into the pocket of his trousers and retrieved a pewter pocket watch on a thin, glistening chain. He checked the time. Ten past noon. Erik let out a groan.

"This day shall take forever to draw to a close," he murmured. "I don't want to have to wait to see her." He could've laughed at himself for sounding like a child once again.

That's when the Phantom, with a small yawn, sulked back to his bedroom to finally get some sleep.

* * *

It was almost astounding that one girl could be walking the streets of France for well over twelve hours. Still, Aleera put a decent percentage of the time to good use. After leaving word with several of the stage crew and one of the cleaning ladies - all but one or two would be bound to forget if Aleera was asked for - and set out into the bustling streets. She spent a couple of hours walking to new places to sit in the park, another hour or so in a small cafe for a bite to eat and a cup of tea with lemon, and an indistinguishable amount of time peering through shop after shop, speaking to vendors in that shy, somber voice of hers, about one topic or another.

Her last two hours, however, Aleera had taken a carriage ride to the cemetery, to visit her parents' graves. The Lorenti family insisted that the two be buried back in Italy. Aleera had convinced them that Salvatore and Gianna had loved Paris so much, they wished to stay there forever, when in reality, she would feel less alone with them close by.

Passing through the gates of the cemetery, Aleera's feet made crunching noises as they walked along a floor of snow and dried leaves. Turning along some paths, it wasn't long before she stopped at two large crosses engraved with her parents' names. Both were at least six and a half feet tall, and lightly dusted with snow. With a shaky sigh, Aleera stepped forward, bestowing a kiss upon each stone before looking at them longingly.

"Mama...papa..." she whispered softly, "what should I do? The Opera life is getting difficult, not too many of the girls appreciate me there...and I may just have won the heart of the Phantom of the Opera. What do I do...?"

Aleera's eyes widened. She had almost forgot about meeting Erik on the Populaire's rooftop, and it was already pitch-black outside. Cursing at herself, she scurried back to the carriage waiting for her outside, and boarded it again, asking to be driven back to the Opera House. With a crack of the whips, the horses began their quickened trot, and within a few minutes, Aleera was back to run inside the Populaire.

The halls seemed to be curiously empty, and Aleera did stop once or twice on her journey to the backstage staircases to look around. Perhaps most of the performers were back in their rooms early, or off drinking cheap wine with the sleazy stagehands. Either way, it didn't matter; there would be less of an obstacle for Aleera to get to her destination.

That's when she heard the church bells, just starting to chime. _One...two..._ Aleera's blood ran cold, and she finally reached backstage by taking a shortcut through the theatre and climbing onto the stage. _Three...four..._ She finally reached the stairs to the room, climbing up one set, walking along the rafters, and then climbing another, repeating this twice more before reaching the door to the rooftop. Opening it swiftly, she was greeted by a burst of cool air, the sight of soft snow falling from the dark sky...

...And Erik, leaning casually against a stone gargoyle. His eyes darted toward the door, hearing it close due to a gust of wind, and walked over to Aleera as she took a few steps toward him as well.

"Hello, Erik..." she said softly. "I'm glad you found the note."

"Of course," the Phantom answered, a small, fake smile on his face. "I had to check on you anyhow, to make sure you were alright. I understand that last night must have been confusing as all hell for you."

"Yes..." Aleera nodded, her brown locks slightly bouncing. "Erik, I...I actually wanted to speak to you about that.

_No surprise there... _"I see... Did I frighten you?" Erik just began blurting out questions of concern. He'd be damned if he ruined the friendship he had with this girl, if there was to be any relationship at all. "Did I move to fast? What did I d-"

"Erik, calm yourself." Aleera laughed softly, placing her hand on his shoulder. "No, you did nothing. If you believe the kiss to be wrong, then we are both at fault. We both wanted that."

"O-oh..." Erik began to blush faintly. "Then, what did you have to say?" He placed his hand gently on Aleera's back and led her to a small bench, sitting her down slowly before he joined her.

Aleera sat there for a moment of silence before taking a deep breath. "Well...all day, I thought about that kiss. At first, I was just overwhelmed by everything-"

"I apologi-"

"Don't interrupt me." Aleera blinked a few times at hearing herself snap, but she knew she had to get everything out all at once, or she was bound to have a breakdown. "Anyway, at first, that kiss overwhelmed me. I felt my body do something that I have never before experienced. Then a dream followed later that night... At first it was a nightmare, then...you seemed to appear, and the terror went away for good. In the second kiss we shared, I don't know what sort of power I felt, but I wouldn't have reciprocated it if I merely pitied you and nothing more. Kissing you...feeling myself swept up in your arms, did you see what it made me do? I smiled. I felt safe...loved. If I could feel that for longer than a moment, it'd make me the happiest I've been in years."

Erik felt a cascade of warmth through his body. His hands shook, aching to touch her. Yet, in this moment, only his words would bestow that gentle caress upon her. "So...what d-does that mean? Do you...want me to continue what we made...?"

"I was _us _to continue." Aleera smiled softly, her voice cracking as she spoke, desperate not to cry. "Nothing would make me happier... I don't care if it has only been a few days. You make me happy, and I don't want it to stop."

Erik held his breath, unable to speak. His mind refused to register each word that tumbled out from between Aleera's perfect lips. Instead of debating over it, he moved swiftly closer to her, pulling her into a kiss full of all the pain, confusion, and happiness that swirled together in his aching heart, letting out a sigh of bliss as he felt Aleera respond. His mind analyzed every move she made: how her arms wrapped securely around his neck, how her soft lips pressed against his own cold ones, how her tongue teased at him. It was heaven, plain and simple, yet in the need for air, Erik pulled from the kiss and gasped. His forehead pressed lightly against Aleera's, tears streaming from his eyes. "You have said what I have waited my whole life to hear..." he whispered, kissing her cheeks, the tip of her nose, her forehead.

Aleera ran her hand along Erik's mask, and without hesitation, slowly pulled it from his face, placing it in her lap. Her hand then rose again to his face, brushing his tears away. "Then don't weep, Erik," she whispered. "Just kiss me again."

Erik wanted nothing more than to kiss this young woman until the sun rose, but he could see that she was trembling from the cold. Grinning, he placed a gloved finger against Aleera's lips. "Not now, my precious. You're cold, and my kiss surely will not warm you enough. Nor will my arms. Shall we return to your room?"

With a nod, Aleera stood up, mask in her left hand, holding the other out to him. "That is a great idea," she said softly, smiling when Erik took her hand. She then made a move to head toward the door, but was stopped when he held her back. "What's wrong?"

"We can take another way to your dressing room," Erik replied. "It has been a while since my bare face has felt the cold of winter, so I will leave my mask off. Of course, walking back your route would, no doubt, cause a commotion."

"I suppose you're right; I don't wish to chance a young chorus girl walking through the halls and finding the two of us." Aleera laughed softly. "So...how else will we return to my room?"

Erik grinned at her in a coy fashion and led her to one side of the roof. Behind one of the gargoyles, he stopped and moved his foot through the soft blanket of fresh snow, uncovering a trapdoor. Aleera smiled with delight and bent down before Erik even had the chance, pulling on the brass handle and opening it. A long staircase began from the start of the trapdoor, which could then lead to several different passageways throughout the Populaire.

"So this is how the Phantom of the Opera finds his way around..." Aleera said in just above a whisper.

"Indeed, my beauty," Erik piped in. He began to descend himself, before turning and holding out his hand to Aleera, which she took without hesitation. With a delighted smile, he then began to take her down into the warm, rather humid passageways of the Opera House, turning on this corner and that corner. Confusing little Aleera to no end. Finally, after about four minutes, they came to another trapdoor above them, a few small steps ascending toward it. Erik pushed it up and open, and the two stepped into Aleera's dressing room.

"My god..." The girl blinked a few times in surprise. "How are there so many passageways in this building?"

"Well, I did tell you that I originally came up with the building plans for the Opera House," Erik replied as he replaced the trapdoor with a small _clunk_, walking toward Aleera with a glint of pride and mischief in his eyes. "No one, except for Madame Giry and I, knows the complete layout of this place. Those who live or work here are aware that I use the secrets of this old building to my disposal...the just don't know the specifics." His arms snaked around Aleera's waist.

"Ah, I see..." Aleera raised her brow and countered Erik's newly formed smirk. "So, about that kiss..."

That was it. No more holding back. With a whimper of pure joy, Erik crushed Aleera's lips with his own, kissing her passionately to make up for a wait that seemed like it had lasted an eternity. Aleera dropped Erik's mask on the floor and cupped his face in her small hands, pressing back. Almost instantly, both their mouths opened and their tongues met again in a frenzy of desperation, and Aleera could distinctly hear a moan rise in her counterpart's mouth. She began to step back, the air feeling heavy on her, and let out a soft squeak as the pressure of her mattress hit the backs of her legs, causing them to buckle and for her to fall back. She opened her eyes and backed up on the bed, but Erik followed her down, crawling over her, a feral growl escaping him as he captured Aleera in another kiss, his hands on either side of her head. He was on cloud nine, every desire of his, present in this one angel that lay beneath him. He wanted nothing more than to ravish her.

And Aleera happily wanted to oblige. Arching her back, she took one of Erik's hands in her own and led it to rest on the strings of her corset. Erik's hand trembled, but gave in and began to untie them and pull the corset off, moaning out Aleera's name. He didn't stop there, as his hands made quick work of the remainder of her clothing, tearing the cloth from her body. As he finished, Aleera watched on as Erik quickly threw off his cape and cloak, before unbuttoning his shirt, easing out of it. His body was well-toned and muscular, yet covered in many scars he had received as a child.

Erik smiled and gazed back over her longingly. Her ivory flesh was flushed and beaded with sweat. She appeared to him as nothing less than a goddess. "You are so beautiful," he moaned, hesitating before flicking his tongue along her breasts.

Aleera writhed beneath her beloved, his hot tongue causing her to whimper out. She ran her hand through his ivory hair. "Oh, Erik..." she breathed. "I've never felt like this before...my body is so warm."

Erik moaned softly at her words and continued to kiss his way down her body, stopping at her undergarments. Hands trembling, he curled his fingers around the waistband and brought them down. Seeing Aleera's womanhood before him caused Erik to break out in a cold sweat. She truly was perfection. She had brought him out from hell. Now was his chance to, in some small way, repay her. Hesitating for a single moment more, the lower half of his clothing soon landed in a heap on the floor, and he rose over Aleera, desire clouding his eyes.

Aleera whimpered softly and wrapped her arms around him, afraid to look down at the two of them. When Erik's hips lowered, however, she could surely feel him. For once, she savored the new heat of his skin, moaning out softly. She knew he wanted her, and how right she was. And oh god, how she wanted him as well. Yet, something seemed wrong.

She gazed up to look at Erik, and stared into his eyes with shock. He had finally reached the breaking point and would go no further. Letting out a sigh of aggravation, he moved off of her and sat on the corner of the bed, running his hand over his face.

"Erik..." Aleera's voice seemed to break through Erik's lamenting. "Did I do something wrong...?"

The Phantom merely shook his head, replying with a simple, "No..."

"Well, do you not want me? Do you not want to do this?" Aleera's voice became quaky. Perhaps he was having second thoughts, too.

Finally, Erik turned around and smiled softly. "Aleera, I want you more than anything... but I think we should wait. It has been only a few days and I would feel terrible to take advantage of you in such a way." The seriousness shone through in his voice as she leaned over and kissed Aleera's cheek.

Aleera sat there in silence for a moment, her eyes scanning over her own body, before she decided to speak. "I suppose you're right, Erik..." she said softly, a little disappointed, but seeing Erik's point. "We should wait, just a while longer."

Erik chuckled, trying to be lighthearted over this whole scenario. "I can hold you, my darling... but lovemaking is for a time into the future. I am sorry, but it would not be gentlemanly any other way. Though, I do feel terrible leaving you in such a state. May I be of assistance?" Erik smiled devilishly and planted a kiss upon Aleera's breast.

Aleera shuddered again at the feeling of his lips, and felt the fire rise again as she knew Erik had a plan. "H-how to do plan to be of assistance, Erik?" she asked, in a voice of pure, childlike curiosity, almost making her lover feel guilty.

"Just relax... and enjoy. This is simply for you. As a thank you for all you have done for me. " Erik made his way slowly down Aleera's torso with his tongue before once again stopping before her womanhood. "And please tell me if I do anything to hurt you, in any way." He was a man of little knowledge of the world of carnal pleasures, but from his travels around the world, he was able to acquire some knowledge of it. With a deep breath, he leaned down, his tongue stroking once at the tiny bud at the apex of Aleera's thighs.

Aleera arched her hips up and let out a cry. Worlds crashed and others were created as she found herself caught between absolute fear and beckoning sin. Erik's eyes gazed up, caught glimpse of the flushed look on his little darling's face, and chuckled. So he _could_ do something right. He picked up his pace, forming tight, pressured circles with his tongue around the bud while his hands reached up, caressing Aleera's breasts.

Erik's angel continued to writhe beneath him, his rough devil's tongue filling her body with warmth and jolts of pleasure she had never before experienced. Aleera began to feel Erik suck greedily on the spot of her dearest desire and clamped a hand over her mouth. Endless sounds of ecstasy emitted from between her lips, causing several moans of reply to arise from Erik.

It wasn't too long before Aleera began to reach the point of no return. As her heartbeat raced and her body went warm, she began to whimper more, body beginning to spasm. "Erik...something's happening..." she whimpered out in a panic, face flushed, not knowing whether to be scared or calm.

"Relax, my beauty," Erik purred reassuringly, providing another lick or kiss between each few words or so. "You are having an orgasm. It is your body reacting to my touch. Let it come, Aleera..." Erik placed a single chaste kiss into her center, before his suction resumed.

Aleera heard Erik's reply, but with fogged ears, now knowing nothing but the beautiful catastrophe she was about to experience. She reached for one of Erik's hands that rested upon her breasts, and felt it entangle with hers. Her other hand clutched the bed covers beneath her as her hips rose and she let out a gasp, surges of lustful euphoria passing through her every nerve as that bit of pressure to her center sent her spiraling into climax. After those few seconds, she collapsed back on the bed, her hair a mess, and her body shaking as she tried to regain her breath.

Erik lathed his tongue over her moist center one last time before looking up, admired Aleera's sweating, flushed beauty, convinced he had never seen anything more lovely. He enveloped her lips in a kiss, laughing with a soft, subdued happiness into her mouth. "My darling...you were perfect." He crawled up to lay himself beside Aleera, running one hand carefully along her cheek. It was warm to the touch. She, in response, did nothing but smile softly and curl up her body against his, panting softly, exhausted from her release. Erik smiled happily, a single tear falling from each eye as he leaned down and kissed a now nearly unconscious Aleera on her small pink nose.

"I love you, Aleera..."

**MEGGIE, I'M SORRYYYYYYYYY! And Mackenzie, I hope YOU liked it. Hehehe... Welp, you all know the drill. Comment it...click it...send it. In return, more chapters. It's called Equivalent Exchange. If you don't watch Full Metal Alchemist...then you don't know what I am speaking of, and therefore, YOU WON'T FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT! HA! Uhm...kthxbai~!  
**


	10. Quench My Thirst, Heal My Heart

**Okay, I'd be lying if I said that I didn't read the last chapter over quite a few times. It does make me drool, but then again, this is the only perfect Erik out there in my opinion. Mackenzie, you did a great job with him. I mean, Michael Crawford's too old, Gerry Butler's too gorgeous, and Howard McGillin's too gay. -sigh- Hehe, funny story: this is actually my current FaceBook status (August 26th).**

**NOTE: Unfortunately for you, my beloved audience, it will be a fairly long while before I can find enough free time to quickly post anymore chapters. College classes, my rehearsals for a play, clubs, and homework are going to heavily interfere. I will try to keep you all updated as much and as often as possible, but I can't promise you anything just yet. I'm sorry for this inconvenience, but most of my writing will have to take place during the weekends, and when classwork and homework does not interfere with my creative production. Please enjoy my chapter, leave a review, and spread the word? Feedback is greatly appreciated.**

Chapter Ten: Quench My Thirst, Heal My Heart

"W...wha...?"

Erik groaned as he began to wake, bringing his hand up to his face to rub his sleep-filled eyes. Pulling his arm away from another warm form that he had been previously holding. His body froze and his eyes flashed open, slowly focusing on what was lying next to him in a bed that was not his own. As if just waking up from a heavenly dream, he began to smile.

Lying next to him, still fast asleep, was little Aleera Lorenti. Her face was void with emotion, though her eyes were surrounded by powdery, dark smudges. Her makeup had been ruined due to the many tears she had shed that night with him. Her bangs fell just over her eyes, and the quilt had been pulled tightly around her, surrounding her in a nest of warmth and completely covering almost every inch of ivory perfection that was her nude form. Erik began to breathe heavily and licked his dry lips, an unfamiliar taste absorbed by his tongue.

_"My whole body feels warm..."_

That _had _happened. That euphoria that the two had shared wasn't a dream after all... Sitting up, Erik made an attempt to go and fetch his trousers. Turning back to view his little darling once more, he thought better of it. He slipped back beneath the quilt with a soft grin and grasped Aleera's shoulder in a gentle shake.

"Angel...wake up," he cooed to her, leaning in to kiss below her ear. "You don't wish to spend the whole day asleep, do you?"

Aleera whimpered softly in her sleep, the ball her body had curled into tightening and her eyes squeezing even more shut. Finally, she gave up and opened her those sparkling, dazed eyes and gazed up at Erik, immediately overcome by a heated blush across her cheeks.

Erik smiled warmly and leaned in to kiss the tip of Aleera's nose. "Good morning, my dearest," he whispered. He reached out to stroke her hair. "Did you sleep well...?"

Sitting up, Aleera stretched out her arms to release their tension, before noticing the quilt had dropped from covering her breasts. In a panic, she covered up once again. "You...you stayed the night with me, Erik...?" she asked. The question seemed to be more of one for herself, so as to come to terms with why she was naked and in his easy reach.

"Against my better judgment, yes I did," the Phantom replied. With a devilish grin, he leaned in and kissed down Aleera's neck to her collarbone. "Just imagine, a curious fellow chorus girl wandering in and catching you in bed with a man. The Phantom of the Opera, no less."

Aleera found herself in a haze of confusion and desire for this man. Placing her hands on his chest, she saw he immediately stopped.

"Did I hurt you...?" Erik's voice began to tremble, dreading the worst. "Am I still moving too fast...? I could never forgive myself if you were to leave..." He was moments away from weeping once more.

"...No." Aleera gave a small smile and shook her head of umber hair. "I am just having difficulty coming to terms with what happened last night. What's happening now." She felt a pair of warm, muscled arms wrap around her small frame.

Erik sighed in relief. "I know how you feel. I held my breath when I woke and found myself like this. Naked, in your bed. It took me a moment to overcome my fear that I had taken advantage of you."

"Of course not. I wouldn't have been here for you to wake up to had that been the situation."

"Then...did you enjoy it?"

Aleera coughed. "W-what...?"

With a tilt of his head, Erik continued his mild interrogations. "Did you enjoy it? What I did to you last night?"

Shudders passed through Aleera's body as the sounds of her joy from the previous night reverberated through her skull. She shook her head to rid herself of them and looked up at Erik, who gazed at her, still confused. "I did."

Erik's eyes widened in honest surprise. "Really...?"

Aleera sighed. "Yes...I did. Really. Though, at first I was incredibly embarrassed; I was traveling the whole day yesterday and didn't have a chance to bathe beforehand. I hope you didn't find me...filthy."

"Not a single inch of you is filthy, Aleera Lorenti," Erik whispered, planting a kiss above her breasts. "You are perfect, an angel."

_I love you..._

A small laugh. "I don't know about being an angel..."

"You are to me... You're _my _angel."

_I love you..._

Aleera sat there in silence for a moment, before picking up her head and forcing herself to look Erik in the eyes. "...Erik?"

"Yes, dear?" Erik sported a playful little grin.

"Do you still love Christine Daae?"

The grin vanished into thin air. Erik now looked at Aleera with surprised eyes and a swollen heart. He sighed and leaned against the headboard of the bed, pushing a strand of his black hair behind his ear. "To be honest, yes and no. A part of me will always love her. As I've said, she was my Angel of Music, and I her own. And I was her angel since she was a little child. Then her childhood sweetheart stole her away. That's where the no comes in. I hate her for deserting me after all I had done for her, for betraying me and forcing me into the public eye as if I were a monster..."

"But you're not a monster. You did the things you had to do for your own safety. And you know I don't care if you have done that."

"I know..." Erik wrapped his arms around the young girl and pulled her against his warm chest. "Thank God for you, Aleera..."

Aleera smiled and rested her chin on his shoulder, turning so her lips were right by his ear. "I...love you, Erik..."

Suddenly, she began to feel Erik's body lock up around hers. He pulled himself from her just enough to look deep into her eyes, his own filled with tears. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Aleera..." He cleared his throat. "T-that is not a joke. I could not take it if you were lying to me. Please, Aleera, don't torture me like-"

Erik was cut off and thrown completely off guard as Aleera sprung on him and kissed him as deeply as she ever had, pinning him against the headboard. She knew she couldn't explain herself or her feelings to him vocally, so she did through the kiss, praying that he would respond. Erik paused before cupping Aleera's face with his hands and pressing back against her lips. Tears tumbled down his cheeks as all the love he could ever express in words or his music spilled into Aleera. Their bodies pressed tight into each other as the kiss became wilder, tongues meeting in a frenzy. Erik moaned in absolute lust and felt his body move forward, pushing Aleera onto the bed.

Surprised that she didn't stop, he pulled from her lips and whispered into her mouth. "I-I love you, A-Aleera."

Aleera opened her eyes and smiled up at Erik, leaning up to kiss his neck. "I love you too, Erik..." she whispered back. She then moaned as he instantly began to kiss down her jawline and neck, to her collarbone and heading lower. His lips were rough, pressing against her flushed skin in desperation, but Aleera placed her hands on Erik shoulders. He instantly stopped and looked up at her.

"I had my turn..." she told him softly, licking her lips. "Let me pleasure you..."

Aleera's sultry words were too much for Erik. He let out a fierce growl of desire. Placing a kiss between her breasts, he looked up, the excitement bubbling inside him. "You play with fire, mademoiselle," he purred.

Looking down at Erik, Aleera paused, surprised that only her words could send him into such a feral state. She decided to push him more, and sat up, placing her hand against his muscled chest and giving him a firm push so he was on his back. Her body rose over his, and she looked down. A playful grin curled over her pink lips, but nothing but love could be seen in her eyes. "I can handle your fire, monsieur..."

Erik smiled cheekily up at Aleera. "Dominance... I enjoy this side of you. I find it incredibly seductive." He picked up her wrist and kissed it, sliding his tongue across the smooth skin. Groaning with lust, he voiced huskily, "I concede."

"You didn't need to concede, Erik... I would've done this anyway." Unaware of what she was doing, she took both his hands and pushed them down, pinning them playfully by either side of his head on the bed, before leaning in. Erik chuckled at her playful agressiveness. Her lips were now mere centimeters from his, and as she spoke, he savored each puff of warm breath on his skin. "I _want _to do this..." The grin had transformed into a shy smile again as she finally closed the gap between them, kissing him slowly and deeply, her tongue lazily teasing his lips.

Erik gave all of himself into the kiss, arching his hips to meet hers, giving himself some measure of relief from the insane desire coursing through his body. Aleera couldn't bring herself to move her own hips, the feeling of his bare desire against her intimidating her some. She did, however, continue to tease him. She used her teeth to lightly tug on Erik's bottom lip, but only briefly, as she ended the kiss. Her lips then traced his jawline, then down his neck, her tongue sliding along his skin and tasting the salt of the sweat that had formed on his body. With each stroke of her tongue or contact of her lips, Aleera could hear continuous moans and whispers of desire from Erik, who let her explore him, willing her to find his every weak spot. Soon, her face was close enough to his most sensitive of areas, and she paused, giving a quick look toward Erik's face. He only smiled down at her.

"If you're afraid, little one, I don't want you to push yourself," he whispered. His hand reached down and stroked through her soft hair.

Aleera smiled back at her lover and shook her head. "No...I've wanted to do this since last night," she argued softly. "I just...I don't know how. I don't want to hurt you or cause you discomfort."

Erik smiled and beckoned her to lie beside him once again. "Come up here..." In response, Aleera nodded and rose up to his level, propping herself up on the pillow. Her lover chuckled softly and took her hand in his own, kissing her knuckles. "I'll help you. Close your eyes..."

Aleera nodded once more and did as she was told. She could feel Erik spread her hand out and move it down his body. She could feel it finally cease its tremble as her delicate fingers came into contact with his warm skin. And she could hear Erik gasp as they began to move. Aleera's hand continued to be guided, and she allowed it gratefully. It didn't seem fair that she had felt the caress of heaven and he had been left there to restrain himself. No, no longer. As Erik's eyes rolled to the back of his head and words of encouragement and adoration escaped in gasps, she was convinced of what her mission was now.

In what seemed like no time at all, Aleera could hear Erik was so very close to unraveling. He looked upon his angel's face, and seeing the rich crimson in her cheeks sent him over the edge. Pulling her up to his face, he kissed her more deeply than he ever had and screamed hoarsely into her mouth. His body shook and his seed spilled over the bed, along with some onto Aleera's thigh, which she tried desperately to ignore to keep from losing her composure. To Erik, the euphoria was more fulfilling than anything he had ever experienced.

After taking a good few minutes to regain himself, Erik saw the mess he had made of Aleera's sheets and smirked softly. Giving Aleera a gentle nudge to hint her off the bed and removing himself as well, he pulled them off, tossing them in a laundry bin before fetching a new set in her drawer. Aleera watched on as he placed them lazily on the bed, leaving the rest to either her own or the hired help's decision to complete.

"That ought to give the laundry ladies something to gossip about," Erik said with a chuckle, scooping Aleera up in his arms. He laid her back down on the bed before joining her, kissing her fully upon the lips. He whispered in a sweet, passionate voice. "Thank you, Aleera... for everything. You have shown me love as no one ever has before, and passion as I had never dared to hope for." He cradled Aleera softly in his arms, his tears falling upon her chestnut hair.

The little brunette looked down and felt her cheeks turn the brightest red they had ever become. She herself in Erik's embrace and wrapped her arms around him, after taking several seconds to brush away his tears. "And this is only the beginning, Erik..." she whispered back, her lips lightly pressing against his. "Thank you for giving me the love I've always wanted... The love I've needed." With a drowsy smile, Aleera yawned.

Erik fought the urge to spend several more hours there in her bed, just holding her, and reluctantly decided on what was more important. He sighed and got up, walking over to his heap of clothes in the room. "I apologize for ruining this, my little darling, but I promised Madame Giry that I would aid her in getting you into pointe shoes." Erik pulled on his trousers and then worked on just putting on his silk shirt, before replacing his mask. "And that's exactly what I plan to do. Now. So, let us get you dressed and have something to eat, and then we must make our way back to the dance studio."

Aleera nodded and slowly eased herself out of the bed, cheeks red with embarrassment at her nakedness. Walking to her armoir, she pulled out her ballerina outfit and the corset that went over it, her gaze far from Erik's. However, she shivered when she felt his musically callused hand against the small of her bare back.

"_Ma cher_, why do you blush so?" he asked her, head tilted to the side a bit. "You are beautiful. Every last inch of you is angelic in every way." Erik smiled and kissed Aleera's shoulder blade.

"Well, that _could _be true in your opinion, Erik, but...it doesn't take away from the fact that I am still like...this..." Aleera nervously bit down on her bottom lip and covered her breasts with her arms.

Erik paused. Placing the garments down on a chair he moved over to Aleera and wrapped his arms around her. He breathed in deeply, her luscious, flowery scent enveloping him once again. "Don't be embarrassed, Aleera..." he whispered in a comforting sort of coo. "If it makes you feel any more comfortable, you no longer have to show yourself to me this way..." One of Erik's hands stroked her hair.

"But I...want to." Aleera pulled from the embrace slowly and gazed up at Erik. "I want you to see me exactly as I am. It's just that you are the first to see me so vulnerable. The first to make me..." Her voice trailed off, unable to utter anymore.

"Shh...don't say anything..." Erik kissed her forehead and pulled himself away from her, helping her into her clothing. Tightening her corset, he walked around her and with one curt nod, found her presentable enough for his taste. "Very good...now, we must go back to the dance studio, my love. I truly wish that I could spend the entire day...with you in my arms...but I have to get you into those shoes as soon as I possibly can." A look of disappointment overcame Erik's face. "You have to catch up to the others, but it's taking me everything in my power to keep from pulling us back..."

"It's alright, Erik..." Aleera pushed back her hair and kissed Erik on the cheek. "Later, if you allow me the pleasure of joining you once again...I would be happy you."

The Phantom let out a small groan. Antoinette was right; he truly did handle situations as a child would. But he'd be damned if he would allow himself to become as possessive of Aleera as he had been with Christine. "Alright, I suppose I could have the time to let you stay a while tonight." He winked, letting her know he only jested. "But each moment without holding you will be agonizing for me..."

With a frown, Aleera took Erik's hand and led him to the entrance to the passageway of her room. Giving him a nudge, he complied to the mute request and bent down to pry it open, before taking her hand and leading her down the shallow flight of stairs into the labyrinth. Erik began to lead her down several thin corridors in the walls, which were unreasonably humid on the inside. It was rather strange, as most of the floors usually were bitterly cold without the aid of a fire. So much for a luxury entertainment facility.

Very soon, they arrived at a sliding two-way mirror panel, and Aleera could see the dance studio, slightly dimmed by the dust that had formed on that side. Erik slid the mirror away and aided the little brunette in stepping down onto the hardwood floor. As she made her way to the center of the floor, she turned, her lips parted to say something. Erik beat her to the punch and pressed his index finger to her lips.

"You must be hungry," he pointed out, to which he was thanked by the rumbling of a certain chorus girl's stomach. The Phantom chuckled. "I will go to the kitchen and fetch you some breakfast." With a swift turn, he left through the mirror passageway once again.

"Alright then..." The moment Erik was out of possible earshot - at least, in her opinion - Aleera dropped to her knees, a sigh escaping her lips. The dreamy type of sigh that young girls made when they were madly enamored with their own prince charming. She pushed her hair back and looked out the window, the sun's glare off the snow hitting her in the eyes. Yet, she didn't recoil. She merely closed those chocolate orbs of hers and relished in the warmth.

_I love him...I love him! _She giggled to herself, rather giddily. _I love Erik, Paris's own Phantom of the Opera No...not a phantom. The _Angel _of the Opera. May heaven damn me a million times over, but I'm in love._

"And why, my dear, are we laughing?"

With a squeak, Aleera spun around to see Erik smiling at her, a brow raised in curiosity. In one hand, he held a basket full of pastries, two teacups placed conveniently to the side next to them. In the other was a teapot, and from the aroma that emanated off the porcelain ornament, she knew instantly what kind: earl gray. Erik had snuck into the Populaire's kitchen on one of the lower levels, and took off with some refreshments before the cook even thought of turning around.

"Erik...how did you- when did-"

"Now, what type of work can a dancer do if she is malnourished?" The Phantom seemed to dismiss whatever question Aleera had and reached into his trouser pocket to retrieve a handkerchief of delicate fabric, which he cradled a pastry in and handed to her. Hanging the basket on his arm, he took one of the teacups and poured her some of the tea, handing her the cup to take in her free hand. "I hope you don't mind that I was ignorant enough to forget the sugar, dearest."

"No, not at all..." she said, her mouth slightly filled with flaky layers of pastry. She was careful enough not to let them tumble out from between her lips. "I prefer my tea untouched, and strong."

"Eat with your mouth closed, love..." Erik smirked and reached out, using one gloved index finger to ease Aleera's chin up, closing her mouth. She swallowed hard, her heart thrumming unevenly within her ribcage, and saw that Erik had briefly begun to wave his finger in a teasing, disciplinary manner.

"Good girl..." he whispered, his tone so rich, yet so icy-cold it seemed to send chills through Aleera's flesh. "Now, I don't mean to rush you, but please finish quickly. As your teacher, I have to keep you on a tight schedule, so your graduation into pointe shoes occurs exactly when I want it to." Erik moved his face closer to that of his young lover. "And you wouldn't want to displease the Opera Ghost, now would you?"

**A/N: Harro thar. I'm so sorry this chapter might've ended on a somewhat awkward section. You were probably expecting the two to begin dance instructions. However, that will be put in the next chapter. Pinky swear! And I also promise to have chapters out earlier. Sorry for the long wait; I hope this made up for it~!**


	11. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**A Note From The Author:**

Hello, readers! I hope all (the very few) of you are enjoying _Dance, Little Darling_. Unfortunately, I have a spot of bad news for you all.

I shall be taking a short hiatus from this fanfiction to work on a new one related to the Steam game, Left 4 Dead. I have been on a bit of an obsessive streak with this game. I am also taking a break because no one seems to be paying much attention to this fanfiction anyway. Of course, I don't blame you; it is an OC, and I know the grand majority of you all are loyal to solely Christine/Erik story lines. No matter.

I promise I shall continue with working on chapter 11 once I have the first chapter of my L4D story out there in the open. Then again, who am I having wait for me? My story is lacking a lot; good grammar and vocabulary doesn't make up for a rushed, crappy plot.

For those of you who do support _Dance, Little Darling_, let me know in the form of a comment. I want to make sure I have an audience, otherwise I shall stop after another chapter or so, or I will majorly cut down on chapter content so it is done and over with sooner, and I don't want to do that.

Thank you again.

-Kayla (Euphoric Lolita)


	12. And The Angel Will Take Away

**I'd like to thank the people who gave me a thorough critique of my work thus far. For all of you die-hard _Le Fantome _plot Nazis, you're about to get what you want. What, you don't think relationships are gonna have their drama? Trust me, this will be quite a heavy dose of the Erik you all know and love.  
**

Chapter Eleven: And The Angel Will Take Away

_"...As your teacher, I have to keep you on a tight schedule, so your graduation into pointe shoes occurs exactly when I want it to." Erik moved his face closer to that of his young lover. "And you wouldn't want to displease the Opera Ghost, now would you?"_

To this, Aleera responded with a brief shake of her head. She wasn't about to let her teacher and lover know what he was doing to her, how his warm breath on her cheeks made her toes curl, or how the richness of his voice shook her up inside. With a grin, Erik traced his gloved fingertips down the underside of Aleera's arm, took her hand, and led her to the barre. He then removed his mask and laid it upon a chair. "Now, let's get your body stretched enough, and we'll start with the five positions."

Erik watched with an eagle's eye and an almost impatient expression as his angel stretched out enough. When she had regained her composure, he took her by complete surprise and barked out his first order. "First position."

Aleera jumped slightly and did as she was told. Following the five positions came arm movements, and after those came plie, ronde de jambe, pique, then tendus front and back. The poor girl was worked senseless, and even though Erik could see her displeasure, it was for her own good. If she was to become a ballerina, she would have to push herself a bit and dedicate a fair amount of time to learning and practicing the art. However, after a solid hour of exercises, the muscles in Aleera's calves began to twitch. Erik noticed this and gestured for her to stop, knowing she must be cramping. With a small smile, he approached the barre and bent down on one knee. "This shall help you before you begin your center work." Erik slid her shoes off and massaged her feet and calves, almost shivering as she heard Aleera's sigh of relief. There was something so sensual in the simple sound of her breathing, and it drove the Phantom manic.

"Thank you, Erik..." Aleera's gentle voice was almost a whisper.

"You are welcome, my beauty." Erik kissed a trail up Aleera's leg, before rising to his feet and using his body to gingerly press her against the barre. Reaching for her hands, he took them both in his own, lacing their fingers and bringing his lips to press against hers in a soft, passionate kiss. Aleera let out a breath of arousal and kissed back, her hands soon moving out of his and coming up to rest against his chest. As the kiss became more heated, she felt his hands trail along the delicate curves of her body, stopping before resting on her bottom. It was most likely out of Erik wanting to show some form of respect for her, though he was incredibly tempted. The moment of passion finally came to a halt when both heard the door open over the sound of their moans, and they turned in unison to see none other than Madame Giry.

"Well, well," she said with an air of mild dissaproval. "The master and his pupil."

Erik's heart skipped nervously, mentally still in disbelief that the two had been caught. "H-hello, Antoinette. How are you?" He lifted Aleera by the hand and led her to the barre. "Aleera, show Madame Giry your arabesque." He gestured to Aleera, feigning great pleasure as he watched his student obey his instructions.. "Look how clean her line is becoming." He had to keep her distracted, to divert her attention to something. Anything.

"Yes, lovely Erik," Antoinette said, rubbing her temples. "May I speak with you? _Now_?"

Erik's eyes darted for a moment from Antoinette to Aleera, and then back again. "O-of course, please excuse me for a moment, Aleera." He kissed her hand, eyes twinkling already with a mischievous glint of victory, and walked out the door. "Now, Antoinette, what do you have to say?" He leaned against the wall, the picture of innocence. The only thing missing was a halo of light over his head.

Antoinette sighed and looked at her beloved friend. "Do not play innocent, Erik, or think for a moment that I could believe that display. You know I saw your lips locked with Mademoiselle Aleera's. What on earth are you thinking, doing this again? Are you mad?"

"Aleera is different from Christine. She is not as wise, but more caring in a way." The man seemed to speak of the young Italian girl as if he were a young boy appealing to his mother for a second chance. "She is not Christine, Antoinette... just as you weren't when we were children. All women are different. Do you think I do not know what it shall do to me if she leaves?" Erik leaned into Giry, imploring her to speak her mind.

Giry sighed, rubbing her temples yet again. "Erik, of course she would be different, but they are the same in one way: they're both young girls with their lives ahead of them. Aleera is very compassionate, but her naivety would cause you pain. I know it... Don't trust her with your heart; if something happens, you could do worse things than you had done with Christine beneath your wing. Especially to yourself..."

Erik's voice began to crack, frustrated, hopeless tears forming in his steely blue eyes. "Antoinette, please. She loves me. I know she does. There is no one to ruin it. She has feelings for me and only me. I don't know how I came to deserve this, but it is true. She is naive, yes, but not in the way Christine was. Her mind keeps her open to all things, instead of not realizing she has safety in front of her. Aleera trusts me." He opened the door to the studio, pointing to Aleera, who had heard everything clearly and appeared to be just as upset by the situation as he was. "Speak to her yourself. This is truth, but if you won't listen to me, maybe she can." And with that, Erik left, his fist colliding roughly with the wall as he made his exit.

Aleera couldn't take it anymore. As soon as her eardrums echoed with the sound of Erik's diminishing footsteps, she stepped out to confront Giry, her tears wiped away. "Madame Giry, why don't you believe him?" she asked, as if begging for her to understand. "It's true! I love him. I know what would happen to Erik if I were to break his heart, but I won't. I don't fear him at all, you know that. You were the first one to find out that I wished to see him for myself, to meet him. Please, Madame Giry..."

"No, Aleera," Antoinette answered stoically. "You don't understand. If you break him...he will not survive it. Quite literally. Erik would not want me to tell you this, but he has a heart condition spawned from years of using opium in Persia to dull his emotional pain. He has been suffering episodes since Christine left and I believe they would get worse if you left him. I am not saying this to force you to be with him, but it is in your best interest to know that it would quite literally kill him if you led him on." Giry rubbed her temples and peered at Aleera, the deepest of seriousness within her eyes.

Aleera's eyes widened in fear. She was terrified; not because of this trapping situation, but for Erik. Her heart felt like the blood was being wrung out of it, and she stumbled back a step in shock. "I...would kill him...?" The very words made her want to collapse. "I can assure you, if I didn't plan on being with him, I wouldn't have sacrificed my first kiss to him. I wouldn't have given my heart to him. There's no one else who captivates me-"

"Mademoiselle Lorenti, _grow up_." The young girl froze, mouth slightly agape as she was cut off. Antoinette continued. "You are a child who has never had a single suitor approach you, your parents died not too long ago, and you inform me that you truly know what it is to be in love? This is not the story from some childhood novel of yours, Aleera. This is a matter of leaving a man alone, or causing him to suffer to the fullest extent. He would most likely suffer a heart attack and die if he were put under that kind of stress. To believe that you love him and have you deceive him. Not only am I your tutor and guardian figure in this opera house, but I am also Erik's dear friend, and I won't allow a child with her head caught in a fantasy world to lead him to his own grave."

Aleera's eyes drifted toward the ground, a million and a half thoughts rushing through her head. She knew what she felt. Madame Giry wouldn't understand. Aleera came from a different time, and Erik knew what she felt for him. Looking up once more at Giry, her eyes cold, she finally spoke. "Fine, Madame Giry," she said. "Give me your blessing, or don't. Frankly, I know that I'm not making a mistake. Erik _loves _me. I love him, and now, I'm going to go and show him myself." And with a turn on her heel, Aleera was off. Every nerve in Madame Giry's body screamed at her to follow the young girl, to stop her. Yet still as a statue she remained, watching until little Aleera Lorenti was out of sight. Any outcome - going to confess her love, having him turn her away, having her leave him be - would damage the scarred Phantom in one way or another. Why did such an angel have to undergo such anguish?

* * *

There he was once again. The Phantom of the Opera, in complete disarray, coaxing his organ into a melancholy, disjointed, and questioning melody. He couldn't think clearly. First his Angel of Music was taken away, and now Aleera could be as well. Maybe she didn't even care for him. Maybe it was just more pity. Maybe he would indeed have to spend the rest of his life alone. The music morphed into nothing short of poignant sorrow.

Aleera stopped halfway toward his lair, stopping in the lake just beneath the portcullis that was opened to give access to her. That music...it made the smile on her lips vanish into thin air. It sounded so wrought with pain, so full of sadness. Slowly, she made her way over the threshold of the portcullis, not caring that her outfit and slippers were getting soaked through. She walked back up onto solid ground, moving slowly up to the organ, her footsteps nonexistent in comparison to the sounds of the organ. Two feet from him, Aleera stopped, just in time for Erik to cease his musical lament. "Erik...are you alright?" she asked nervously. "Did I do something...?"

Erik could not bear to turn around to face her. He held up her hand, silencing her. "Aleera, do you love me?" he said in a gravely low tone. "I have taken God's wrath for forty years. Having a girl as seemingly flawless as you seems too strange, too good to be true. This has to be further punishment for crimes I apparently had done in my past life...and for what I have done in the recent past..." His voice wandered off, quiet although the frustration was bubbling up inside him.

"E-Erik, I-...please, Eri-"

"Dammit, Aleera!" Erik's fist met the keyboard, not caring about the horrid sound it made. He rose from the organ bench and tore off his mask, tossing it to the floor, while his other hand grasped Aleera's chin, forcing her to stare at his deformity. "Look at me, Aleera! **Look at me!** I am a monster. A murderer. I've done things that make the most morbid of criminals sink to their knees. Aren't you afraid? Do I need to prove myself to you, that I am never deserving of love?!" His other hand caught her waist and forced her against him, her center colliding roughly with his. "You say you love me. You can't honestly say that you wouldn't be completely disgusted with having a monster make love to you. Such a silly little girl with her dangerous games, completely unaware of walking straight into the Hell's most pathetic angel!"

Aleera didn't answer, her body merely shaking in fear of Erik's temper, while he believed it to be suppressed fear of him as a whole. A tear was her only physical response, trickling in a zigzagged path down her cheek. "Do you want me to fear you, Erik?" she asked. Her voice had never sounded so cold.

Erik paused, and before he could open his mouth, Aleera spoke again. "I understand that everyone who had seen your face was afraid. Terrified even. But I'm not. Erik, I found my parents _dead_ in a Parisian alleyway. I had to see them once again to aid the coroner. You believe yourself to be Death? I have stared him in the face!"

"And you think that makes you so deserving of anyone's pity? Good God, child, you have gone through _nothing _compared to what I have been through!" His hands now shook as Erik's anger became nothing short of pure, concentrated rage."I have murdered. I have kidnapped. I have stolen and done things that make me want to hang myself with my own las-"

"And because one good thing comes into your life, you feel like you need to destroy that, too? Am I really the one being the child?"

Erik stared at Aleera's face for the longest time. Finally, he released her chin and walked away from her, not looking back. He took his previous seat before the organ, elbows resting up on the sturdy wooden music sheet stand, hands covering his face. "Aleera...I want you to leave," he hissed with the utmost pain in his voice. It was thin, strained, and drenched in both sorrow and hatred. "Forget me. Forget we ever met." Tears stung in Erik's eyes. "I will continue my miserable life here, and you work to at least be a mediocre student under Antoinette's guidance. You don't love me. I don't love you. Just leave..." His nails sank into his hairline, and with just enough pressure, the skin would break.

"Leave..._now_."

Aleera stood there for a moment, staring at this poor, pitiful creature. She had really thought he felt at least some respect toward her, but that belief was dashed in less than three minutes. Her breathing was shaky, and her eyes burned with the acidic, salty climax of her emotions. Turning from him, she made her exit, not even bothering to take the boat; it most likely wasn't available for her use anyway. Yet, as she fought her way through the water, her feet felt like lead weights.

As Aleera's wet tracks left Erik's field of hearing, he got up and stumbled to his quarters. Icy eyes in a haze, he reached for a bottle that rested on the bottom of the coffin he had designed for himself. The oh so promising aftermath of events like these that his body lusted after beyond all reason. Pulling the cork out of the bottle's neck, he brought it to his lips and began to swig down the toxic numbness this wine could allow. He had never let himself drink too much around Christine, but after she departed alcohol became the only reliant friend he had. Only savoring the sickening warmth it made in his belly, never the quality of taste.

The angel's wings had been ripped away, and there seemed no point in retrieving them. Unless sweet death were to take him, or his own hand to slay him, his heart was on its own.

**Didn't expect that, now did you? R&R!**


End file.
